Replay
by jes004
Summary: AU- Complete - Sydney and Jack bond over old videos. Then Jack gets a call from Irina.
1. 1

Title: Replay

Subject: Jack, Irina and Sydney

Author:  Janice  aka jes004

Disclaimer: The characters all belong to JJ Abrams and Company.  I've only borrowed them temporarily for this story.

Sydney sat back, listening to the familiar tapping of computer keyboards. "Neither rain or snow," she thought wryly.  The Post Office motto could very well have been the CIA's own mantra.  Her family life was in shambles, but the work of the CIA goes on.  She glanced over at Dixon and saw he was watching her.  He gave her his quick smile and an encouraging thumbs up.  She tried to smile back, but her heart wasn't in it.  

She was thankful that Dixon had chosen to work for the CIA.  He was someone she could count on, a man of deep personal integrity, someone to trust. And in her life, trust had become a rare gift.  She turned back to her computer screen.  A team had formulated possible scenarios on Sloanes next move.  She tried to concentrate, but the information blurred before her.  All she could think about was her mothers' betrayal.  Why hadn't she listened to her father?  Why hadn't her father followed his own advice?  "Because you encouraged him to try and forgive her," an inner voice whispered. "You thought you could handle it, handle her.  Not as smart as you thought."  She tried to suppress the guilty recriminations of her subconscious, but the truth could not be denied.

"Sydney, you really should take a few days off."  Dixon had always moved with a catlike grace. How long had he been standing there?  "It will take them a while to track Sloane down.  I promise I'll get in touch with you the minute we get a lead." He patted her on the back, then added "your Dad needs you right now, Sydney."

She looked up at Dixon, startled.  Her Dad.  She had been wallowing in her own self-pity and not given thought to how hard this would affect him.  When he told her the news, he had appeared fine, even somewhat detached.  His remoteness had fooled her into thinking he'd been unaffected by her mother's defection.

"Yes, he's good at hiding his emotions." Dixon looked at her gravely. "But, that is perhaps your biggest clue, Sydney.  The less emotion he shares, the greater his inner turmoil. He's really hurting and he needs you now, more than ever."

This truth about her father had been staring her in the face all along and she had never seen it.  When had Dixon grown so wise?  "I'll talk to Kendall right away."

Kendall was sitting at his desk, reviewing paperwork.  He looked up at Sydney's knock and waved her in. "Sydney. I was just going to call you.  Your father.  He's asked for a few days off." She drew in a shocked breath.  Kendall gave her a sharp look. "Exactly. I'm a bit concerned. Do you think you could check in on him?"

"Actually, I came to ask you for a few days leave, too. I plan to spend some time with my Dad."

"Perfect.  Let me know how he is doing." Kendall turned back to his work.

................................................................

The lights were on at the house and her father's car was in the garage.  A good sign that he was home, she hoped.  Her old key still worked on the door and she quietly slipped inside.  There was a murmur of sound and she followed it to the den.  The door was closed.  She opened it and was greeted with the sound of childish laughter.

"Dad?" She stood uncertainly at the door.  

Her father quickly clicked the remote and turned off the tv.

"Sydney." He stared at her a moment, features blank. "If you are here to deliver a sermon, I'm not in the mood to hear it."  He reached for the tumbler on the end table beside him.  It was partially filled with amber liquid and, as in emphasis of his point, took a deep swallow. 

Sydney moved over to the small bar and pulled out her own tumbler. Looking over the varied and expensive liquor choices, she settled on her favorite bourbon. Her father had always kept a well stocked bar.  Sloane had said her father had gone on a drinking binge after the CIA released him from solitary confinement, but she had no memory of him ever being drunk around her.  True, he would always have a glass of wine with his meal and often have a drink after dinner.  It had been that way before her mother 'died'. Of course, she had no knowledge of what he did once she went to bed.

"So, Dad, what were you watching?" she said, trying to sound cheerful. "Dad?" she prompted, when he didn't reply.

"Family videos," he admitted with obvious reluctance.

She looked at him, puzzled.  "Family videos?  You have family videos?"  A flood of memories washed over her. She had forgotten about the video camera, but, at one time, it had seemed like another member of their family.  

"I converted them to DVD's two years ago. The video tape was on the verge of gumming up.  I managed to save most of them," Jack stated flatly.

"How come you never told me about them?"    

"I didn't think you were interested. You..., at the time, Sydney, you weren't talking to me.  I figured the tapes were of memories you'd rather forget."  Her father's face was void of emotion.  Sydney recalled Dixon's words. Strong emotion was skillfully being covered by an empty mask. Their estrangement apparently caused her father a great deal of pain.  She wish she had understood him better ten years ago.  

"I'd like to watch them with you, Dad." The memories of her early years were dim and disjointed.  She couldn't even be sure which ones were real and which ones were made up.  Was the image of her mother teaching her to bake cookies a figment of imagination, fueled by the loneliness of her youth?  Had her father once been the charming man, with an easy smile and exuberant laugh of her memories?  Her father hadn't answered and she resorted to a tactic that had always worked when she was a kid.  "Please, Daddy?"  

He sighed and nodded. Happily, she sat down next to him, legs curled to her side and rested her head on her father's shoulder, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl.  "Can we start from the beginning?"

She felt him stiffen slightly.  "The very beginning?"

"Uh hunh.  You never really talked about that time in your life."  She heard him draw in a breath.  "I know, Dad, at least, I know now.  It's a part of your life you'd rather forget." She spoke quickly, afraid he wouldn't let her explain how important it was for her to see her parents before their world was turned upside down.  "I want to know you better, Dad.  I want to understand who you are and who you were.  I am your daughter, and yet, I know so little about you.  It would mean a lot to me."

He considered a moment, then picked up the tv remote and pressed it on.  He switched to the more complicated DVD remote and pressed a few buttons.  Sydney watched the images in fascination and Jack reached for his glass, refilled it and took another giant swallow.

The video started with an obviously uncomfortable Jack standing still while Laura adjusted the camera.  Her mother looked so young and innocent.  Her father was wearing a three piece suit and looked like he'd rather be elsewhere.  Finally, the settings correct, Laura walked over to Jack and gave him a quick kiss of encouragement. 

[i]"I'll be the laughingstock of the school, Laura."

"No, you won't.  All the girls will be envying me my handsome boyfriend and all the guys will be ..., well, the guys will probably laugh," she conceded.  "Do you remember your lines?"

"Of course," said youthful Jack, slightly affronted.

"Okay, then let's start."  She faced the camera.  "Good afternoon. I am Laura Anderson.  This video was prepared for 'English Poetry - the Romantic Period'.  As part of my presentation, I have a video rendition of what could be considered a typical proposal for the period."  She turned and Jack moved to her, gracefully slipping to one knee.  

"My beloved," Jack intoned. "You are my greatest treasure.  You are my perfect candle, lighting my way.  You are my eternity.  Our souls are knotted together through immortality.  Tell me, my dearest, that you feel the same.  I cannot live another day without you at my side.  Please make me the happiest of men and say you will be my wife?"

"That was good, Jack.  Maybe would should try it again, though, just in case..."

"No!" he interrupted forcefully, swiftly reverting back to a standing position.  "Laura, those lines ... they are ..."

"So romantic?" she offered.

"So cheesy.  My god, it's a wonder anyone ever got married then.  They probably died laughing before the lady could accept."

Laura laughed, rich and deep, then pulled Jack to her.  She gave him a gentle kiss on his lower lip, then a full kiss.  "Thank you, sweetheart."  She frowned. "Ow."  She patted him on the chest.  "You've got something hard in your pocket, Jack.  Can we move it to your pants?"

He laughed.  "I've got something hard there, too," he responded suggestively.  "Can you get the box?"  Laura reached inside his jacket and pulled out a square box.  

"Open it," Jack encouraged.  She did and found a velvet jewelers box.  Her hands were trembling as she pulled back on the lid.  Jack pulled the ring from the case.  He held her hand and then, gathering courage asked "Will you marry me, Laura Anderson?  I have no flowery words.  All I can say is I love you with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with you at my side."

Laura threw her arms around him.  "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!"  She kissed him again and this time it deepened.  "Oh my god, Jack.  The camera.  Wait.  Let me turn it off first.  No, not you.  The camera." [/i] 

The screen went blank.  Jack hit the pause button, trying to get his emotions under control.

"Dad, I didn't know you were such a romantic!"

"Romantic?  No.  I was a fool.  Cuvee was right. God, what an idiot I was."

"Cuvee?"

"You remember when they were torturing me in Kashmir?"  She nodded.  "Cuvee told me he was our 'matchmaker'.  He thought it quite funny that my ego was so big, that I could believe a woman like your mother would go for a man like me." Sydney heard the pain and bitterness her father was desperately trying to hide.  "Just looking at the old videos, I realize he was right.  I wasn't the type of guy a woman like your mother would choose."

"Dad, I think you are wrong.  The woman I saw in that video loved you.  You could see it in the way she touched you, the way she looked at you when you weren't looking."

"Sydney, that's just wishful thinking on your part.  Every child wants their parents to have that fairy tale love."

Sydney was unconvinced, but she held her tongue. "So, what's next?"    

.........................................................

Sydney sat back and watched snatches of her parents early dates.  She laughed over a beach trip.  Her mother had buried her father in the sand, then spent an inordinate amount of time kissing the exposed parts. On one of their excursions, they made a trip to Kings Dominion, an amusement park outside of Richmond.

[i]"Never?" Jack said in disbelief.  

"I am not going to say it again, Jack." Her mother sounded annoyed.

"Why?"

"Why am I not going to say it again or why haven't I ever ridden a roller coaster."  [/i]

Sydney remembered that tone of voice from her childhood.  She looked over at her father and grinned.  There would have been hell to pay later for him later, of that she was sure.  Jack returned her smile ruefully.  "Yes, you're right.  She extracted her revenge later.  You'll see."

[i]"Is that it?"  The camera panned the skyline, following the movement of twin roller coasters.  "They are all screaming, Jack.  It can't be that much fun."

"You're not afraid, are you?  Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"Jack Bristow, I don't know what has gotten into you today, but you better stop right now, or you will be very, very sorry later."[/i]

"What had gotten into you, Dad? Mom looked like she was ready to sock you. I think I would have, too, if I were in her place."

Jack shrugged.  "I don't know.  Overactive male hormones, excitement, anxiety over the coming wedding.  Who knows?  But making up was always worth ... um, I, ahem..." Jack stammered over his faux pas and Sydney was surprised to see a blush creep up his neckline.  She squeezed his hand reassuringly and continued to watch.  

The video picked back up to the moments before they were seated. Jack trained the camera on Laura as she watched the laughing passengers disembark, glancing up once to send a sizzling glare at her fiance.  The park employee motioned for them to be seated and locked them in place.

"You better hope I don't kill you after this, Jack, because it's not good form to be a widow before you're even married," Laura hissed. Jack focused the camera on her face. "And do something else with that camera, before I break it into a thousand pieces."[/i]

For a moment, Sydney thought she wouldn't get to enjoy her mothers' first coaster ride, but her father merely focused the camera outward.  Her mother, apparently, was a little nervous going down the first hill.  Sydney heard her calling for Jack, a note of desperation in her voice.  The camera dipped as her father moved closer to Laura.  Soon, however, Laura, began enjoying the ups and downs of the coaster and joined in the happy yelling of her fellow passengers.  Sydney saw through her fathers' lens the final drop and tensed, wondering how her mother would take it.  The happy laughter as they reached the bottom reassured her and she knew a roller coaster fanatic had been born.  Once again the camera faded to black, then rejoined her parents in line for the "Rebel Yell".  This time, her mother was in charge of the camera.

[i]"Laura, are you sure you want to go again?  Don't you think ten times is enough for mere mortals?" 

"I want to wait for the front again, Jack." 

"But, Laura, we just had dinner."  Jack was looking decidedly green.  He looked at her and groaned.  "This is your revenge for this morning, right?"  A pause as Jack looks directly at the camera.  "I thought so.  Wait til tonight," he said under his breath.

"What was that, dear?"

"I said, you look lovely tonight."[/i]

Sydney glanced at her father, as the coaster ride played out.  He seemed lost in thought, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  She turned back to the screen and saw that the wedding coverage was next.   

......................................................

"Hungry?" Jack moved from the couch, tossing the remote to Sydney  
  
"What?" The abrupt transition startled her. Quickly, she paused the remote.  
  
"I'm hungry. I know a great gourmet restaurant that delivers. The catalog is in the kitchen." He focused on the television screen. "Why don't you go ahead and watch while I order."  
  
"Dad?" Jack's eyes flicked to her and then back to the screen.  
  
"I can't watch it, Sydney. It ... hurts too much," he admitted somewhat reluctantly. She nodded and he moved to the kitchen. As an afterthought, she shouted to him "No squid or octopus, or, or fried chicken lips, Dad," and smiled as she heard him laugh in response.   
  
Pushing the remote, Sydney immediately noticed a difference in the quality of the video. Obviously her parents had hired a professional to record the event for posterity. The video focused in first on her mother and the bridesmaids as they prepared for the big moment. Laura was looking radiant as she finished her makeup. There were two bridesmaids and an older woman all chattering about the preparations. One of the bridesmaids looked familiar and Sydney realized with a start that it was her Aunt Jane. She didn't know much about her aunt. When she was growing up, there had been occasional visits lasting only a few days.   
  
Aunt Jane did not care for children, something she had made pretty obvious during her visits. The last time her aunt paid them a visit was right before her High School graduation. Since she was a top investigative reporter for CNN, Sydney knew she was alive and well, but that was pretty much it. Her father rarely spoke about her. The other bridesmaid was a mystery to her. She'd have to ask her Dad, especially since her mother had flown the coop.  
  
The older woman turned toward the camera and addressed her mother. Sydney gasped as she realized this was her grandmother. Her father's mother. She paused the remote and stared at the woman she only vaguely remembered. Her grandparents death only two months before her mothers had been devastating for her father. It was no wonder he was such an emotional wreck at the time.  
  
She started the video and listened as her grandmother complimented her mother.  
  
_"You look lovely, dear. It's time to put on the dress. Jane, honey, you get the veil. Sarah, why don't you help me with the dress?"  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Bristow, for all your help. I...I wish my own mother could have been here. But you have been so wonderful." Laura gave her future mother-in-law a hug and a kiss on the cheek.   
  
"Think nothing of it, my dear. You are a part of our family now. I would be happier if you called me 'Mom', though." She patted Laura on the cheek. "I know you'll take good care of my son. You love him. I can see that." Laura's eyes glistened and Mrs. Bristow quickly reached for a tissue. "We can't have you spoiling your make-up, now can we?" She turned as Sarah undid the buttons of the dress._  
  
The camera switched to the grooms waiting area. Sydney laughed softly as she watched her father pace nervously around the room. She didn't recognize the two men who stood with her father, but the older gentleman had to be her grandfather. He looked stern and uncompromising.   
  
_"Jonathan, will you stop your pacing. Your marriage is simply a formality anyway." He walked to the door. "I'll be outside when you need me." _  
  
Jack looked at his father stonefaced and Sydney realized that her father had long practice in hiding his feelings. She didn't remember her grandfather very much. He had always seemed distant, not the grandfatherly type at all and the video bore out her memories.   
  
The video switched once again and panned the assembled guests. A face stuck out at her and she paused the disc and zoomed in. Khasinau! He had been at her parents wedding. Pretty bold on his part. He didn't look too happy, either. Sydney wondered if her father knew about Khasinau.   
  
"Dad? I need to ask you something." If he didn't know, it would probably cause him even more pain, but she couldn't *not* ask.  
  
He popped his head in through the door. "No, I didn't order chicken lips or squid ink soup." Sydney frowned a moment at this. "There's such a thing as squid ink soup?" Jack shook his head. "I was joking, honey. I know I'm out of practice, but I didn't think I was that bad!"  
  
"Oh." Sydney screwed up her courage and pointed to the screen. "Did you know Khasinau was at your wedding?" Jack froze.  
  
"Sydney...." She could hear the pain, but there were too many questions and now might be her only chance to hear the answers. She forged ahead.   
  
"I'm surprised the CIA didn't confiscate the tapes."   
  
He was silent, then, just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he gave her an answer. "The tapes were originally on 8 mm film. Your mother knew someone at the college who could convert the tapes to video, so we could watch them with the VCR. She gave them to him about a week before the 'accident'. I was already in CIA custody when he finished, so the CIA never knew about the tapes. My sister was taking care of my financial interests and she picked them up for me."  
  
"Dad, how come Aunt Jane didn't take care of me while you were being held? Six months was an awfully long time and I really needed family." Her voice ached with the remembered loneliness. The nanny had been kind, but she was no substitute for family. Her mother was dead, or so she thought, her father was 'away on business', or so she thought. It had been a lot for a little girl to handle by herself.  
  
Jack raked his hand through his hair. "Jane can't handle being around children," he explained carefully.   
  
"Dad, what aren't you telling me?"  
  
Jack sighed. "Your aunt can't have children. She got pregnant in high school and ended up getting a backstreet abortion. There were ... complications. I'm not sure which was worse for her. Finding out she would never have a child of her own or having our father tell her it was no less than she deserved."  
  
"Dad, please stay? I know it hurts, but I really need to watch this with you."  
  
Jack resumed his place on the couch and took another swallow of whiskey. At Sydney's look, he shrugged, but said nothing. Sydney hit the play button and watched the processional. First her grandmother was escorted to the front. Then the lighting of the candles. Sydney had to smile. One candle refused to stay lit.   
  
"An omen," Jack said gloomily and took another swig.   
  
"Shush, Dad. Something like that happens at all weddings."   
  
Finally, the groom and his party moved to their place in front. Her father really looked handsome. He was wearing his hair slightly longer and the curls were more obvious. She wanted to laugh at his 70's tux, but didn't want to take a chance on him leaving her to watch the wedding alone again.  
  
Her mother obviously went with a completely traditional wedding, flower girl, ringbearer and all. Finally, the music swelled to the traditional bridal entry and her mother entered the church.   
  
"Dad, why is your father escorting Mom down the aisle?"   
  
"Your mother told us she had no family." Then, wryly, "she certainly charmed the socks off my father. I think it's the only thing I ever did that he actually approved."  
  
Her grandfather released her mother and moved to a seat next to his wife. Laura was simply stunning. There were no other words for her. Nothing in Laura's manner indicated that she was not head over heals in love with the man who stood before her. The dress was lovely, an off-white silk that looked like it had been designed for another era.  
  
"Your grandmother's wedding dress," Jack said, as if she had spoken aloud. "Jane was not happy about that. My father is the one who arranged it. I'm not sure my mother thought it proper, either, but your mother was thrilled and I was so besotted, I would have given her the moon if she'd asked." The last was said with strong self derision.  
  
"Dad, I can't believe the woman I'm seeing is not in love with you. Look at her. She's looking at you as though you are the only man in the room."  
  
"No, she's thinking how great this will go over with the KGB. She's successfully duped a CIA agent."  
  
"No way. I know that look. See how she's reaching for you." They watched as vows were exchanged and Jack kissed his bride. They turned to the guests and Sydney noticed a slight change in her mothers expression. Shock? Laura recovered quickly, but some of the glow dimmed. Then she looked up at Jack and whispered something in his ear.  
  
"What did she say, Dad?" Sydney's curiosity getting the better of her.   
  
"It was a long time ago, Sydney, you can't expect me to remember such a tiny detail."  
  
Her father's voice was flat, they way it always was when he was lying to her. "Dad."  
  
He pursed his lips and she thought he was going to be stubborn and not tell her. "Please?"  
  
He shook his head at her, giving a short laugh. "Well, we know where you got that ability. You are your mother's daughter."  
  
"Funny, everyone says I'm exactly like you. That I may look like Mom, but I'm my father's daughter. Now, please tell me."  
  
"Always remember I love you."   
  
"I know you love me, Dad. Why don't you want to tell me what she said?"  
  
"That was what she said," Jack responded with exasperation. "It was her favorite phrase. I'd find little notes in my suit jackets when I went on trips. She'd tape it to the sports section of the newspaper. Sometimes she'd tape it to the bookmarker of whatever novel I was reading at the time. On our first Christmas, she wrapped up several boxes, one within the other - like those nested Russian Matreshka dolls - the final box had a small gift with the same note. She even left one of those damned notes on the steering wheel of my car the night she 'died'." Pain mixed with bitterness and anger as Jack shared a part of his past that had been locked inside for twenty-one years. Sydney was glad that he finally felt comfortable enough to tell her long held secrets, but sad that what he shared caused him such pain.  
  
The doorbell rang. "Dinner's here," her father said, putting an effective end to their conversation. She stopped the player, noting that it had moved on to the reception while they talked. 

---------------------------------------------

"So, Dad, what's for dinner?" asked as her father answered the door.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Jack looked defensive.  "I ordered the Chef's Surprise Special - you never know what you're going to get." Jack guided her to the table, which she noted, was already set, as the delivery man headed for the kitchen.  "I've never had a bad dinner yet and it saves trying to figure out what I want."

Sydney watched as the cartons were placed carefully on the counter. The young man rummaged through the kitchen with an ease that bespoke familiarity.  Her father apparently ordered his meals from the establishment fairly regularly.  When the delivery man didn't immediately leave, she realized that serving the meal was a part of the service. Within moments, he entered the dining room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.  "Compliments of Chef Pierre, Mr. Bristow."  He looked over at Sydney with barely disguised curiosity.  

Jack furrowed his eyebrow in surprise, then apparently enlightened, started to laugh.  "Thank you, Joe.  Please tell him my *daughter* and I appreciate his gesture."  Joe nodded and seemed to share the joke with her father.

"The Special tonight is Roasted lamb chops a la Chef Pierre.  It is accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and honey asparagus.  Your salads will be out shortly," Joe intoned formally, then returned to the kitchen.

"What was that all about, Dad?"

"Pierre thought I was entertaining a lady."

Sydney frowned. "A lady?" Then, understanding dawning, "Oh, a lady!"

.......................................

Sydney sat back on the couch while Jack brought over the bottle of champagne.  She raised her eyebrows and her father shrugged.  "Doesn't everyone have champagne at their wedding reception?" he said nodding at the video footage currently displaying on the tv.

She smiled at his joke, glad to see some of his earlier tension ease.  She looked at the monitor and saw her parents dancing together, seemingly oblivious to everything around them. Jane Bristow stood to one side, watching them.  It struck Sydney that her aunt was not happy about her brothers' marriage.  Did she sense something that others missed?  If she had watched the video without knowing the participants, Sydney would have said the bride and groom were meant for each other.  And yet, there was Aunt Jane, seeming to know something was awry.

"No, Sydney, Jane didn't know any more than anyone else."  Her father accurately read her thoughts.  "Her unhappiness came because your mother had succeeded where she never could.  My father was not a very pleasant man, but he treated your mother like she was a royal princess."  He stopped.  "I suppose you feel the same way about me," Jack said without expression.

"No, I've never thought of you as a royal princess." She smiled up at him.  "A royal pain in the ass, maybe."

"Sydney, I'm out of practice and this doesn't come easily to me, but I do love you.  I don't want you to ever have to doubt that." 

She looked into her father's eyes and knew that her response had the power to hurt or heal. She thought of the empty years, growing up almost without him.  And then she remembered the important moments of her life.  Learning to ride her bike, her first dance, her first date, high school graduation, college graduation. She thought of the nights he would come home late and tuck her in. He thought she was asleep, but she always waited up for him, waited for him to straighten her covers, waited for the light kiss on the cheek, waited for him to whisper that he loved her.  

"Dad, do you remember what you used to call me, when I was little?"

"Yes.  I also remember you telling me you didn't want me to call you that ever again.  You were thirteen, I believe."

Sydney laughed. "Yeah, it was embarrassing in front of my friends. But I still wanted you to kiss me good night and say 'I love you, Buttercup'. Why did you stop?"

"You locked your door."

"I did?" Sydney looked puzzled.  "I don't remember doing that. One of my sitters had a smarmy boyfriend and I used to lock my door when you were gone.  She didn't last very long, anyway." She reached over and held Jack's hand.  "When I was growing up, even when I was angry with you, Dad, I knew you loved me. I guess I forgot somewhere along the way."  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned back to the screen.  Jack had paused it while they talked and now he let it resume. She watched as the images moved from the reception to their honeymoon in Europe.  

The first shot was of her mother leaning out against the brickwall of a very old bridge, hair gently blowing in the light summer breeze.  Above and to her right was an ancient castle, glowing in the afternoon light.

"Heidelburg," Jack explained briefly.

[i]"Jack, will you put that thing away.  Come over here and look.  It's beautiful."  The camera panned the bridge area, revealing a street lined with buildings that had stood the test of time.  He zoomed in on one of the hotels.

"It's a beautiful hotel, Jack." At some point her mother had moved from her riverside perch and stood next to her father.  "I'm feeling a little ... tired.  Perhaps we should go and rest before dinner?"

"Excuse me, please."  The camera wobbled as a small man bumped into her father. "So sorry.  Entschuldigen Sie, bitte."  The man almost lost his balance and fell somewhat heavily against her mother.  She must have grabbed on to Jack to keep from falling, since the camera juggled awkwardly again. Jack steadied the camera and followed the man as he continued on his way.[/i]

Jack hit the pause button, stunned.  "Cuvee. My god.  Even on our honeymoon."  Sydney wanted to reassure her father, but nothing came to her. She stared at the still image and felt a sharp welling of anger and hate.  Not towards her mother, but rather the people who pulled the strings and placed her in such an untenable position.  

"I don't think I can watch any more tonight, Sydney."  He looked at the clock on the mantel.  "It's late.  Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Thanks, Dad.  My stuff's in the car." 

.........................................................

The ring of the phone startled Jack out of his uneasy slumber.  "Yes, hello?" he mumbled. 

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Laura?" he said still half asleep. Then suddenly, he wasn't.  "Irina."  He looked at the clock.  Three a.m.  

"I'm sorry, dear, did I wake you?  I must have miscalculated on the time difference."

"Like hell you did."  Jack had no intention of being pleasant.  "What do you want?"

"Sydney told me you were still living in our old house."

"Irina!" Jack let his impatience have full rein.

"I remember when I left we had a gopher problem.  You wouldn't put poison out because you were worried that Sydney might accidentally get in to it.  I always wondered how you got rid of them.  Nasty animals.  I hated them being so close to our home."

Jack was silent as he tried to remember a problem with gophers.  The time right before her supposed death was a bit of a blur.  His parents death had left him emotionally drained.  That, coupled with Laura's death and the discovery of her betrayal, he was in a sad state.  But he would remember gophers.

"You're calling me at 3 in the morning to ask me about gophers?"

"No, actually I called because I miss you.  I've missed our daily talks."

Jack rubbed his eyes and an unbidden image of Cuvee invaded his memory.

"How could you, Irina." The words were out before he could stop them.

"How could I what?"

"Cuvee.  On our honeymoon, for god's sake." Too much alcohol, too little sleep and an anger that had multiplied during his restless slumber loosened the normally tight rein he held on his emotions.

She was silent, then "My air time is almost up.  Not enough time to explain. Someday, Jack." The phone clicked and she was gone.

He sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck.  Why had she called?  Gophers.  He lay back against the pillows.  He sighed.  The answer would have to wait until morning.

Jack groaned when the alarm finally invaded his consciousness.  He'd had sleepless nights before, restless thoughts of love and betrayal, but morning usually brought solace and renewed strength against his demons.  Not this morning.  His ghosts were all too real.

Irina.  

Why had she called?  Jack pulled himself from the bed and made his way to the shower, letting the sting of water soothe away the tension of the night.  He liked showers.  They cleared away the morning cobwebs, allowing him to simply think.  [i]Laura had liked baths.[/i] He steered his mind away from that memory.  

Once again he thought of his early morning phone conversation.  It almost felt like he'd dreamt it.  Almost.  She taken a risk to call him, of that he was sure.  So there was an important message in what she'd said.  Gophers.  That was the key.  But what?  Computers?  The University of Minnesota had developed a search engine in the early days of home computing called Gopher. Surely too obscure.  She used to love watching "The Love Boat".  Her favorite character was Gopher.  But what kind of a warning was that?  He and Sydney had been watching the videos, maybe his tv was bugged.  God, he hoped not.  

The water for his shower cooled, but not his thoughts.  Panama.  She was so beautiful and he could feel the heat of her eyes on him all evening.  Perhaps he should have protested more when she asked for the tracker to be removed, but anticipation made him careless.  When she turned to him, his desire overwhelmed him and he was lost.

They made love fast and hard.  He reveled when she lost control and groaned as he fell into the same abyss. He held her close and Irina lay quietly against him.

[i]"Jack?" He tried to fake sleep, not wanting to destroy the moment with talk, but Irina was insistent.  "Jack.  I know you are not asleep."

He turned to her, caressing her hair.  She stilled his hand.  "What's your real plan?"

"Real plan?" 

"Kendall may have fallen for it, but I know you better, Jack.  I've studied your strategies.  This is far too simple and straightforward.  You don't do simple and straightforward."

He had to admire her keen intelligence, even if it did present a slight problem in his plans. His brain automatically began analyzing new strategies, some way to incorporate this new twist in to his ultimate goal.

She sighed and brushed a hand across his cheek and behind his ear.  He shivered, his body quickly reacting to her touch.  He could feel it and he knew she could feel it.  "You don't trust me." She continued her caresses, knowing that each touch would excite him more.  "You want Sloane.  I want Rambaldi.  You want Sydney safe.  So do I. We could work together?"  

"I thought we were.  You meet with Sloane, we nab him.  That's the plan."

"No, Jack, it isn't.  But we'll have to discuss this more later." She moved over him and let her body caress his.  "Right now, I simply want you. And I don't want you to think I'm seducing you for information.  I'm simply seducing you.  We don't have much time and I don't plan on wasting it."

By morning, they had formulated an alternate plan.  It had been an uneasy truce, but Irina was willing enough to submit to the passive transmitter.  They agreed the only way their plan would work was for everyone to think Irina had betrayed Jack again.  It was a sacrifice for both of them.  She, in the loss of her daughters' newborn trust and he, in being thought a colossal fool once again.[/i]

He dressed, then made his way downstairs. It was still early, the sun just rising above the horizon. He set the coffeemaker and moved to the patio off the breakfast nook.  When he and Laura had purchased the house, the backyard had been a mass of weeds and overgrown fauna.  They had worked on the yard together, spending their weekends digging and planting, until it looked like an outdoor garden.  Two years later, they had added a small pool.  Once upon a time a hammock occupied the spot between two trees.  Their yard had been a refuge of sorts for him.  It pulled him away from the ugliness that surrounded his work to a place of innocence and laughter. 

He looked at the neatly manicured grounds.  Gophers, he thought.  Why gophers?  Gophers like to burrow underground and eat vegetation. Irina was right, they were not pleasant creatures.  The could wreak havoc in lawns, just like moles.  Moles.  Of course. Jack replayed the conversation in his head. 

[i] "I remember when I left we had a gopher problem.  You wouldn't put poison out because you were worried that Sydney might accidentally get in to it.  I always wondered how you got rid of them.  Nasty animals.  I hated them being so close to our home."[/i]

A mole. And it was someone close to Sydney.  It was the obvious answer. But was that what she meant?  Which of his daughter's friends would betray her?  He could think of none.  Still, it only affirmed that they had made the right decision to keep Sydney out of the loop. Her daughter's genuine anger and grief would make Irina's cover more convincing.  

"Dad?"

"Good morning, Sydney.  Coffee? Breakfast?" Jack closed the door to the patio and headed back to the kitchen.  

"Just coffee, Dad."  She looked him over somewhat critically, then asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"Nothing a little coffee won't cure," he said as he reached for two mugs. 

"You don't have to watch anymore, if you don't want to." 

"I'm sorry about last night.  It just took me a little by surprise.  I'm fine, sweetheart."

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment.  He placed the mugs on the small table and they sat, quietly sipping their coffee. 

"Um, Dad, about last night."  Jack stiffened slightly.  "That chef, he thought you had a date?"

Jack nodded cautiously, not knowing where the conversation was going.

"It was kind of weird."

"Weird? In what way?" He was almost afraid to hear her answer.

"I don't know.  I guess I never thought of you in that way before."  At Jack's questioning look, Sydney tried to explain further.  "With other women."

Jack relaxed.  "So, what are you asking me?" he teased.

"I don't know.  In my mind, it was always you and Mom. I don't remember you dating when I was growing up.  I always thought it was because you were being faithful to Mom." She gave him a wry smile.  "Silly of me, right?" Her look became pensive.  "Funny, even knowing what Mom did, I still think of you as..."

"Not silly," Jack interrupted abruptly.  "Naive, maybe."  He looked at his daughter, eyes hooded.  "I haven't lived as monk, if that's what you're wondering.  I'm sure your mother hasn't abstained, either."

Sydney nodded.  She wasn't sure why, but her father's admission saddened her. Her memories of her parents marriage had assumed fairy tale status over the years.  She hated when real life reared its ugly head.    

"Do you mind if I go ahead and start watching the rest of your trip to Europe?" She decided it best to avoid the word 'honeymoon'.

He smiled, immediately noticing the careful choice in words.  "Only if I get to control the remote."


	2. 2

The lights were on at the house and her father's car was in the garage. A good sign that he was home, she hoped. Her old key still worked on the door and she quietly slipped inside. There was a murmur of sound and she followed it to the den. The door was closed. She opened it and was greeted with the sound of childish laughter.  
  
"Dad?" She stood uncertainly at the door.   
  
Her father quickly clicked the remote and turned off the tv.  
  
"Sydney." He stared at her a moment, features blank. "If you are here to deliver a sermon, I'm not in the mood to hear it." He reached for the tumbler on the end table beside him. It was partially filled with amber liquid and, as in emphasis of his point, took a deep swallow.   
  
Sydney moved over to the small bar and pulled out her own tumbler. Looking over the varied and expensive liquor choices, she settled on her favorite bourbon. Her father had always kept a well stocked bar. Sloane had said her father had gone on a drinking binge after the CIA released him from solitary confinement, but she had no memory of him ever being drunk around her. True, he would always have a glass of wine with his meal and often have a drink after dinner. It had been that way before her mother 'died'. Of course, she had no knowledge of what he did once she went to bed.  
  
"So, Dad, what were you watching?" she said, trying to sound cheerful. "Dad?" she prompted, when he didn't reply.  
  
"Family videos," he admitted with obvious reluctance.  
  
She looked at him, puzzled. "Family videos? You have family videos?" A flood of memories washed over her. She had forgotten about the video camera, but, at one time, it had seemed like another member of their family.   
  
"I converted them to DVD's two years ago. The video tape was on the verge of gumming up. I managed to save most of them," Jack stated flatly.  
  
"How come you never told me about them?"   
  
"I didn't think you were interested. You..., at the time, Sydney, you weren't talking to me. I figured the tapes were of memories you'd rather forget." Her father's face was void of emotion. Sydney recalled Dixon's words. Strong emotion was skillfully being covered by an empty mask. Their estrangement apparently caused her father a great deal of pain. She wish she had understood him better ten years ago.   
  
"I'd like to watch them with you, Dad." The memories of her early years were dim and disjointed. She couldn't even be sure which ones were real and which ones were made up. Was the image of her mother teaching her to bake cookies a figment of imagination, fueled by the loneliness of her youth? Had her father once been the charming man, with an easy smile and exuberant laugh of her memories? Her father hadn't answered and she resorted to a tactic that had always worked when she was a kid. "Please, Daddy?"   
  
He sighed and nodded. Happily, she sat down next to him, legs curled to her side and rested her head on her father's shoulder, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. "Can we start from the beginning?"  
  
She felt him stiffen slightly. "The very beginning?"  
  
"Uh hunh. You never really talked about that time in your life." She heard him draw in a breath. "I know, Dad, at least, I know now. It's a part of your life you'd rather forget." She spoke quickly, afraid he wouldn't let her explain how important it was for her to see her parents before their world was turned upside down. "I want to know you better, Dad. I want to understand who you are and who you were. I am your daughter, and yet, I know so little about you. It would mean a lot to me."  
  
He considered a moment, then picked up the tv remote and pressed it on. He switched to the more complicated DVD remote and pressed a few buttons. Sydney watched the images in fascination and Jack reached for his glass, refilled it and took another giant swallow.  
  
The video started with an obviously uncomfortable Jack standing still while Laura adjusted the camera. Her mother looked so young and innocent. Her father was wearing a three piece suit and looked like he'd rather be elsewhere. Finally, the settings correct, Laura walked over to Jack and gave him a quick kiss of encouragement.   
  
_"I'll be the laughingstock of the school, Laura."__  
  
"No, you won't. All the girls will be envying me my handsome boyfriend and all the guys will be ..., well, the guys will probably laugh," she conceded. "Do you remember your lines?"  
  
"Of course," said youthful Jack, slightly affronted.  
  
"Okay, then let's start." She faced the camera. "Good afternoon. I am Laura Anderson. This video was prepared for 'English Poetry - the Romantic Period'. As part of my presentation, I have a video rendition of what could be considered a typical proposal for the period." She turned and Jack moved to her, gracefully slipping to one knee.   
  
"My beloved," Jack intoned. "You are my greatest treasure. You are my perfect candle, lighting my way. You are my eternity. Our souls are knotted together through immortality. Tell me, my dearest, that you feel the same. I cannot live another day without you at my side. Please make me the happiest of men and say you will be my wife?"  
  
"That was good, Jack. Maybe we should try it again, though, just in case..."  
  
"No!" he interrupted forcefully, swiftly reverting back to a standing position. "Laura, those lines ... they are ..."  
  
"So romantic?" she offered.  
  
"So cheesy. My god, it's a wonder anyone ever got married then. They probably died laughing before the lady could accept."  
  
Laura laughed, rich and deep, then pulled Jack to her. She gave him a gentle kiss on his lower lip, then a full kiss. "Thank you, sweetheart." She frowned. "Ow." She patted him on the chest. "You've got something hard in your pocket, Jack. Can we move it to your pants?"  
  
He laughed. "I've got something hard there, too," he responded suggestively. "Can you get the box?" Laura reached inside his jacket and pulled out a square box.   
  
"Open it," Jack encouraged. She did and found a velvet jewelers box. Her hands were trembling as she pulled back on the lid. Jack pulled the ring from the case. He held her hand and then, gathering courage asked, "Will you marry me, Laura Anderson? I have no flowery words. All I can say is I love you with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with you at my side."  
  
Laura threw her arms around him. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" She kissed him again and this time it deepened. "Oh my god, Jack. The camera. Wait. Let me turn it off first. No, not you. The camera." _  
  
The screen went blank. Jack hit the pause button, trying to get his emotions under control.  
  
"Dad, I didn't know you were such a romantic!"  
  
"Romantic? No. I was a fool. Cuvee was right. God, what an idiot I was."  
  
"Cuvee?"  
  
"You remember when they were torturing me in Kashmir?" She nodded. "Cuvee told me he was our 'matchmaker'. He thought it quite funny that my ego was so big, that I could believe a woman like your mother would go for a man like me." Sydney heard the pain and bitterness her father was desperately trying to hide. "Just looking at the old videos, I realize he was right. I wasn't the type of guy a woman like your mother would choose."  
  
"Dad, I think you are wrong. The woman I saw in that video loved you. You could see it in the way she touched you, the way she looked at you when you weren't looking."  
  
"Sydney, that's just wishful thinking on your part. Every child wants its parents to have that fairy tale love."  
  
Sydney was unconvinced, but she held her tongue. "So, what's next?"


	3. 3

Sydney sat back and watched snatches of her parents early dates.  She laughed over a beach trip.  Her mother had buried her father in the sand, then spent an inordinate amount of time kissing the exposed parts. On one of their excursions, they made a trip to Kings Dominion, an amusement park outside of Richmond.

_Never?" Jack said in disbelief.  _

_"I am not going to say it again, Jack." Her mother sounded annoyed._

_"Why?"_

_"Why am I not going to say it again or why haven't I ever ridden a roller coaster?"_  

Sydney remembered that tone of voice from her childhood.  She looked over at her father and grinned.  There would have been hell to pay for him later, of that she was sure.  Jack returned her smile ruefully.  "Yes, you're right.  She extracted her revenge later.  You'll see."

_"Is that it?"  The camera panned the skyline, following the movement of twin roller coasters.  "They are all screaming, Jack.  It can't be that much fun."_

_"You're not afraid, are you?  Don't worry, I'll protect you."_

"Jack Bristow, I don't know what has gotten into you today, but you better stop right now, or you will be very, very sorry later."

"What had gotten into you, Dad? Mom looked like she was ready to sock you. I think I would have, too, if I were in her place."

Jack shrugged.  "I don't know.  Overactive male hormones, excitement, anxiety over the coming wedding.  Who knows?  But making up was always worth ... um, I, ahem..." Jack stammered over his faux pas and Sydney was surprised to see a blush creep up his neckline.  She squeezed his hand reassuringly and continued to watch.  

The video picked back up to the moments before they were seated. Jack trained the camera on Laura as she watched the laughing passengers disembark, glancing up once to send a sizzling glare at her fiancé.  The park employee motioned for them to be seated and locked them in place.

"You better hope I don't kill you after this, Jack, because it's not good form to be a widow before you're even married," Laura hissed. Jack focused the camera on her face. "And do something else with that camera, before I break it into a thousand pieces."

For a moment, Sydney thought she wouldn't get to enjoy her mothers' first coaster ride, but her father merely focused the camera outward.  Her mother, apparently, was a little nervous going down the first hill.  Sydney heard her calling for Jack, a note of desperation in her voice.  The camera dipped as her father moved closer to Laura.  Soon, however, Laura began enjoying the ups and downs of the coaster and joined in the happy yelling of her fellow passengers.  Sydney saw through her fathers' lens the final drop and tensed, wondering how her mother would take it.  The happy laughter as they reached the bottom reassured her and she knew a roller coaster fanatic had been born.  Once again the camera faded to black, then rejoined her parents in line for the "Rebel Yell".  This time, her mother was in charge of the camera.

_"Laura, are you sure you want to go again?  Don't you think ten times is enough for mere mortals?" _

_"I want to wait for the front again, Jack." _

_"But, Laura, we just had dinner."  Jack was looking decidedly green.  He looked at her and groaned.  "This is your revenge for this morning, right?"  A pause as Jack looks directly at the camera.  "I thought so.  Wait til tonight," he said under his breath._

_"What was that, dear?"_

_"I said, you look lovely tonight."_

Sydney glanced at her father, as the coaster ride played out.  He seemed lost in thought, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  She turned back to the screen and saw that the wedding coverage was next.


	4. 4

"Hungry?" Jack moved from the couch, tossing the remote to Sydney

"What?"  The abrupt transition startled her.  Quickly, she paused the remote.

"I'm hungry.  I know a great gourmet restaurant that delivers.  The catalog is in the kitchen." He focused on the television screen.  "Why don't you go ahead and watch while I order."

"Dad?"  Jack's eyes flicked to her and then back to the screen.

"I can't watch it, Sydney. It ... hurts too much," he admitted somewhat reluctantly.  She nodded and he moved to the kitchen.  As an afterthought, she shouted to him "No squid or octopus, or, or fried chicken lips, Dad," and smiled as she heard him laugh in response.  

Pushing the remote, Sydney immediately noticed a difference in the quality of the video.  Obviously her parents had hired a professional to record the event for posterity. The video focused in first on her mother and the bridesmaids as they prepared for the big moment.  Laura was looking radiant as she finished her makeup.  There were two bridesmaids and an older woman all chattering about the preparations.  One of the bridesmaids looked familiar and Sydney realized with a start that it was her Aunt Jane. She didn't know much about her aunt.  When she was growing up, there had been occasional visits lasting only a few days. 

Aunt Jane did not care for children, something she had made pretty obvious during her visits. The last time her aunt paid them a visit was right before her High School graduation.  Since she was a top investigative reporter for CNN, Sydney knew she was alive and well, but that was pretty much it.  Her father rarely spoke about her.  The other bridesmaid was a mystery to her. She'd have to ask her Dad, especially since her mother had flown the coop.

The older woman turned toward the camera and addressed her mother.  Sydney gasped as she realized this was her grandmother.  Her father's mother.  She paused the remote and stared at the woman she only vaguely remembered.  Her grandparents' death only two months before her mothers had been devastating for her father.  It was no wonder he was such an emotional wreck at the time.

She started the video and listened as her grandmother complimented her mother.

_"You look lovely, dear. It's time to put on the dress.  Jane, honey, you get the veil.  Sarah, why don't you help me with the dress?"_

_"Thank you, Mrs. Bristow, for all your help.  I...I wish my own mother could have been here.  But you have been so wonderful."  Laura gave her future mother-in-law a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  _

_"Think nothing of it, my dear.  You are a part of our family now.  I would be happier if you called me 'Mom', though."  She patted Laura on the cheek.  "I know you'll take good care of my son. You love him.  I can see that."  Laura's eyes glistened and Mrs. Bristow quickly reached for a tissue.  "We can't have you spoiling your make-up, now can we?" She turned as Sarah undid the buttons of the dress_.

The camera switched to the grooms waiting area.  Sydney laughed softly as she watched her father pace nervously around the room. She didn't recognize the two men who stood with her father, but the older gentleman had to be her grandfather.  He looked stern and uncompromising.  

_"Jonathan, will you stop your pacing. Your marriage is simply a formality anyway."  He walked to the door. "I'll be outside when you need me."_

 Jack looked at his father stonefaced and Sydney realized that her father had long practice in hiding his feelings. She didn't remember her grandfather very much.  He had always seemed distant, not the grandfatherly type at all and the video bore out her memories.  

The video switched once again and panned the assembled guests.  A face stuck out at her and she paused the disc and zoomed in.  Khasinau!  He had been at her parents wedding.  Pretty bold on his part. He didn't look too happy, either.  Sydney wondered if her father knew about Khasinau.  

"Dad? I need to ask you something." If he didn't know, it would probably cause him even more pain, but she couldn't *not* ask.

He popped his head in through the door.  "No, I didn't order chicken lips or squid ink soup."  Sydney frowned a moment at this.  "There's such a thing as squid ink soup?"  Jack shook his head.  "I was joking, honey.  I know I'm out of practice, but I didn't think I was that bad!"

"Oh." Sydney screwed up her courage and pointed to the screen.  "Did you know Khasinau was at your wedding?"  Jack froze.

"Sydney...." She could hear the pain, but there were too many questions and now might be her only chance to hear the answers. She forged ahead.  

"I'm surprised the CIA didn't confiscate the tapes." 

He was silent, then, just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he gave her an answer.  "The tapes were originally on 8 mm film. Your mother knew someone at the college who could convert the tapes to video, so we could watch them in the VCR.  She gave them to him about a week before the 'accident'.  I was already in CIA custody when he finished, so the CIA never knew about the tapes.  My sister was taking care of my financial interests and she picked them up for me."

"Dad, how come Aunt Jane didn't take care of me while you were being held?  Six months was an awfully long time and I really needed family."  Her voice ached with the remembered loneliness.  The nanny had been kind, but she was no substitute for family.  Her mother was dead, or so she thought, her father was 'away on business', or so she thought.  It had been a lot for a little girl to handle by herself.

Jack raked his hand through his hair. "Jane can't handle being around children," he explained carefully. 

"Dad, what aren't you telling me?"

Jack sighed.  "Your aunt can't have children.  She got pregnant in high school and ended up getting a back street abortion.  There were ... complications.  I'm not sure which was worse for her.  Finding out she would never have a child of her own or having our father tell her it was no less than she deserved."

"Dad, please stay?  I know it hurts, but I really need to watch this with you."

Jack resumed his place on the couch and took another swallow of whiskey.  At Sydney's look, he shrugged, but said nothing. Sydney hit the play button and watched the processional.  First her grandmother was escorted to the front.  Then the lighting of the candles.  Sydney had to smile.  One candle refused to stay lit.  

"An omen," Jack said gloomily and took another swig.  

"Shush, Dad.  Something like that happens at all weddings." 

Finally, the groom and his party moved to their place in front.  Her father really looked handsome.  He was wearing his hair slightly longer and the curls were more obvious.  She wanted to laugh at his 70's tux, but didn't want to take a chance on him leaving her to watch the wedding alone again.

Her mother obviously went with a completely traditional wedding, flower girl, ring bearer and all.  Finally, the music swelled to the traditional bridal entry and her mother entered the church.  

"Dad, why is your father escorting Mom down the aisle?" 

"Your mother told us she had no family." Then, wryly, "she certainly charmed the socks off my father.  I think it's the only thing I ever did that he actually approved."

Her grandfather released her mother and moved to a seat next to his wife.  Laura was simply stunning.  There were no other words for her.  Nothing in Laura's manner indicated that she was not head over heals in love with the man who stood before her.  The dress was lovely; an off-white silk that looked like it had been designed for another era.

"Your grandmother's wedding dress," Jack said, as if she had spoken aloud.  "Jane was not happy about that. My father is the one who arranged it. I'm not sure my mother thought it proper, either, but your mother was thrilled and I was so besotted, I would have given her the moon if she'd asked." The last was said with strong self-derision.

"Dad, I can't believe the woman I'm seeing is not in love with you.  Look at her.  She's looking at you as though you are the only man in the room."

"No, she's thinking how great this will go over with the KGB.  She's successfully duped a CIA agent."

"No way.  I know that look.  See how she's reaching for you."  They watched as vows were exchanged and Jack kissed his bride.  They turned to the guests and Sydney noticed a slight change in her mothers' expression.  Shock? Laura recovered quickly, but some of the glow dimmed.  Then she looked up at Jack and whispered something in his ear.

"What did she say, Dad?"  Sydney's curiosity getting the better of her.  

"It was a long time ago, Sydney, you can't expect me to remember such a tiny detail."

Her father's voice was flat, they way it always was when he was lying to her.  "Dad."

He pursed his lips and she thought he was going to be stubborn and not tell her. "Please?"

He shook his head at her, giving a short laugh.  "Well, we know where you got that ability. You are your mother's daughter."

"Funny, everyone says I'm exactly like you.  That I may look like Mom, but I'm my father's daughter. Now, please tell me."

"Always remember I love you." 

"I know you love me, Dad.  Why don't you want to tell me what she said?"

"That was what she said," Jack responded with exasperation.  "It was her favorite phrase.  I'd find little notes in my suit jackets when I went on trips.  She'd tape it to the sports section of the newspaper.  Sometimes she'd tape it to the bookmarker of whatever novel I was reading at the time.  On our first Christmas, she wrapped up several boxes, one within the other - like those nested Russian Matreshka dolls - the final box had a small gift with the same note. She even left one of those damned notes on the steering wheel of my car the night she 'died'."  Pain mixed with bitterness and anger as Jack shared a part of his past that had been locked inside for twenty-one years.  Sydney was glad that he finally felt comfortable enough to tell her long held secrets, but sad that what he shared caused him such pain.

The doorbell rang.  "Dinner's here," her father said, putting an effective end to their conversation.  She stopped the player, noting that it had moved on to the reception while they talked.


	5. 5

"So, Dad, what's for dinner?" asked as her father answered the door.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Jack looked defensive.  "I ordered the Chef's Surprise Special - you never know what you're going to get." Jack guided her to the table, which she noted, was already set, as the delivery man headed for the kitchen.  "I've never had a bad dinner yet and it saves trying to figure out what I want."

Sydney watched as the cartons were placed carefully on the counter. The young man rummaged through the kitchen with an ease that bespoke familiarity.  Her father apparently ordered his meals from the establishment fairly regularly.  When the delivery man didn't immediately leave, she realized that serving the meal was a part of the service. Within moments, he entered the dining room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.  "Compliments of Chef Pierre, Mr. Bristow."  He looked over at Sydney with barely disguised curiosity.  

Jack furrowed his eyebrow in surprise, then apparently enlightened, started to laugh.  "Thank you, Joe.  Please tell him my *daughter* and I appreciate his gesture."  Joe nodded and seemed to share the joke with her father.

"The Special tonight is Roasted lamb chops a la Chef Pierre.  It is accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and honey asparagus.  Your salads will be out shortly," Joe intoned formally, then returned to the kitchen.

"What was that all about, Dad?"

"Pierre thought I was entertaining a lady."

Sydney frowned. "A lady?" Then, understanding dawning, "Oh, a lady!"

.......................................

Sydney sat back on the couch while Jack brought over the bottle of champagne.  She raised her eyebrows and her father shrugged.  "Doesn't everyone have champagne at their wedding reception?" he said nodding at the video footage currently displaying on the tv.

She smiled at his joke, glad to see some of his earlier tension ease.  She looked at the monitor and saw her parents dancing together, seemingly oblivious to everything around them. Jane Bristow stood to one side, watching them.  It struck Sydney that her aunt was not happy about her brothers' marriage.  Did she sense something that others missed?  If she had watched the video without knowing the participants, Sydney would have said the bride and groom were meant for each other.  And yet, there was Aunt Jane, seeming to know something was awry.

"No, Sydney, Jane didn't know any more than anyone else."  Her father accurately read her thoughts.  "Her unhappiness came because your mother had succeeded where she never could.  My father was not a very pleasant man, but he treated your mother like she was a royal princess."  He stopped.  "I suppose you feel the same way about me," Jack said without expression.

"No, I've never thought of you as a royal princess." She smiled up at him.  "A royal pain in the ass, maybe."

"Sydney, I'm out of practice and this doesn't come easily to me, but I do love you.  I don't want you to ever have to doubt that." 

She looked into her father's eyes and knew that her response had the power to hurt or heal. She thought of the empty years, growing up almost without him.  And then she remembered the important moments of her life.  Learning to ride her bike, her first dance, her first date, high school graduation, college graduation. He had been there for those moments. She thought of the nights he would come home late and tucked her in. He thought she was asleep, but she always waited up for him, waited for him to straighten her covers, waited for the light kiss on the cheek, waited for him to whisper that he loved her.  

"Dad, do you remember what you used to call me, when I was little?"

"Yes.  I also remember you telling me you didn't want me to call you that ever again.  You were thirteen, I believe."

Sydney laughed. "Yeah, it was embarrassing in front of my friends. But I still wanted you to kiss me good night and say 'I love you, Buttercup'. Why did you stop?"

"You locked your door."

"I did?" Sydney looked puzzled.  "I don't remember doing that. One of my sitters had a smarmy boyfriend and I used to lock my door when you were gone.  She didn't last very long, anyway." She reached over and held Jack's hand.  "When I was growing up, even when I was angry with you, Dad, I knew you loved me. I guess I forgot somewhere along the way."  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned back to the screen.  Jack had paused it while they talked and now he let it resume. She watched as the images moved from the reception to their honeymoon in Europe.  

The first shot was of her mother leaning out against the brick wall of a very old bridge, hair gently blowing in the light summer breeze.  Above and to her right was an ancient castle, glowing in the afternoon light.

"Heidelberg," Jack explained briefly.

_"Jack, will you put that thing away.  Come over here and look.  It's beautiful."  The camera panned the bridge area, revealing a street lined with buildings that had stood the test of time.  He zoomed in on one of the hotels._

_"It's a beautiful hotel, Jack." At some point her mother had moved from her riverside perch and stood next to her father.  "I'm feeling a little ... tired.  Perhaps we should go and rest before dinner?"_

_"Excuse me, please."  The camera wobbled as a small man bumped into her father. "So sorry.  Entschuldigen Sie, bitte."  The man almost lost his balance and fell somewhat heavily against her mother.  She must have grabbed on to Jack to keep from falling, since the camera juggled awkwardly again. Jack steadied the camera and followed the man as he continued on his way._

Jack hit the pause button, stunned.  "Cuvee. My god.  Even on our honeymoon."  Sydney wanted to reassure her father, but nothing came to her. She stared at the still image and felt a sharp welling of anger and hate.  Not towards her mother, but rather the people who pulled the strings and placed her in such an untenable position.  

"I don't think I can watch any more tonight, Sydney."  He looked at the clock on the mantel.  "It's late.  Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Thanks, Dad.  My stuff's in the car." 

.........................................................

The ring of the phone startled Jack out of his uneasy slumber.  "Yes, hello?" he mumbled. 

"Good morning, sunshine."

"Laura?" he said still half asleep. Then suddenly, he wasn't.  "Irina."  He looked at the clock.  Three a.m.  

"I'm sorry, dear, did I wake you?  I must have miscalculated on the time difference."

"Like hell you did."  Jack had no intention of being pleasant.  "What do you want?"

"Sydney told me you were still living in our old house."

"Irina!" Jack let his impatience have full rein.

"I remember when I left we had a gopher problem.  You wouldn't put poison out because you were worried that Sydney might accidentally get in to it.  I always wondered how you got rid of them.  Nasty animals.  I hated them being so close to our home."

Jack was silent as he tried to remember a problem with gophers.  The time right before her supposed death was a bit of a blur.  His parents' death had left him emotionally drained.  That, coupled with Laura's death and the discovery of her betrayal, he was in a sad state.  But he would remember gophers.

"You're calling me at 3 in the morning to ask me about gophers?"

"No, actually I called because I miss you.  I've missed our daily talks."

Jack rubbed his eyes and an unbidden image of Cuvee invaded his memory.

"How could you, Irina." The words were out before he could stop them.

"How could I what?"

"Cuvee.  On our honeymoon, for god's sake." Too much alcohol, too little sleep and an anger that had multiplied during his restless slumber loosened the normally tight rein he held on his emotions.

She was silent, then "My air time is almost up.  Not enough time to explain. Someday, Jack." The phone clicked and she was gone.

He sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck.  Why had she called?  Gophers.  He lay back against the pillows.  He sighed.  The answer would have to wait until morning.


	6. 6

Jack groaned when the alarm finally invaded his consciousness.  He'd had sleepless nights before, restless thoughts of love and betrayal, but morning usually brought solace and renewed strength against his demons.  Not this morning.  His ghosts were all too real.

Irina.  

Why had she called?  Jack pulled himself from the bed and made his way to the shower, letting the sting of water soothe away the tension of the night.  He liked showers.  They cleared away the morning cobwebs, allowing him to simply think. _Laura had liked baths._ He steered his mind away from that memory.  

Once again he thought of his early morning phone conversation.  It almost felt like he'd dreamt it.  Almost.  She taken a risk to call him, of that he was sure.  So there was an important message in what she'd said.  Gophers.  That was the key.  But what?  Computers?  The University of Minnesota had developed a search engine in the early days of home computing called Gopher. Surely too obscure.  She used to love watching "The Love Boat".  Her favorite character was Gopher.  But what kind of a warning was that?  He and Sydney had been watching the videos, maybe his tv was bugged.  God, he hoped not.  

The water for his shower cooled, but not his thoughts.  Panama.  She was so beautiful and he could feel the heat of her eyes on him all evening.  Perhaps he should have protested more when she asked for the tracker to be removed, but anticipation made him careless.  When she turned to him, his desire overwhelmed him and he was lost.

They made love fast and hard.  He reveled when she lost control and groaned as he fell into the same abyss. He held her close and Irina lay quietly against him.

_"Jack?" He tried to fake sleep, not wanting to destroy the moment with talk, but Irina was insistent.  "Jack.  I know you are not asleep."_

_He turned to her, caressing her hair.  She stilled his hand.  "What's your real plan?"_

_"Real plan?" _

_"Kendall may have fallen for it, but I know you better, Jack.  I've studied your strategies.  This is far too simple and straightforward.  You don't do simple and straightforward."_

_He had to admire her keen intelligence, even if it did present a slight problem in his plans. His brain automatically began analyzing new strategies, some way to incorporate this new twist in to his ultimate goal._

_She sighed and brushed a hand across his cheek and behind his ear.  He shivered, his body quickly reacting to her touch.  He could feel it and he knew she could feel it.  "You don't trust me." She continued her caresses, knowing that each touch would excite him more.  "You want Sloane.  I want Rambaldi.  You want Sydney safe.  So do I. We could work together?"  _

_"I thought we were.  You meet with Sloane, we nab him.  That's the plan."_

_"No, Jack, it isn't.  But we'll have to discuss this more later." She moved over him and let her body caress his.  "Right now, I simply want you. And I don't want you to think I'm seducing you for information.  I'm simply seducing you.  We don't have much time and I don't plan on wasting it."_

_By morning, they had formulated an alternate plan.  It had been an uneasy truce, but Irina was willing enough to submit to the passive transmitter.  They agreed the only way their plan would work was for everyone to think Irina had betrayed Jack again.  It was a sacrifice for both of them.  She, in the loss of her daughters' newborn trust and he, in being thought a colossal fool once again_.

He dressed, then made his way downstairs. It was still early, the sun just rising above the horizon. He set the coffeemaker and moved to the patio off the breakfast nook.  When he and Laura had purchased the house, the backyard had been a mass of weeds and overgrown fauna.  They had worked on the yard together, spending their weekends digging and planting, until it looked like an outdoor garden.  Two years later, they had added a small pool.  Once upon a time a hammock occupied the spot between two trees.  Their yard had been a refuge of sorts for him.  It pulled him away from the ugliness that surrounded his work to a place of innocence and laughter. 

He looked at the neatly manicured grounds.  Gophers, he thought.  Why gophers?  Gophers like to burrow underground and eat vegetation. Irina was right; they were not pleasant creatures.  They could wreak havoc in lawns, just like moles.  Moles.  Of course. Jack replayed the conversation in his head. 

_ "I remember when I left we had a gopher problem.  You wouldn't put poison out because you were worried that Sydney might accidentally get in to it.  I always wondered how you got rid of them.  Nasty animals.  I hated them being so close to our home."_

A mole. And it was someone close to Sydney.  It was the obvious answer. But was that what she meant?  Which of his daughter's friends would betray her?  He could think of none.  Still, it only affirmed that they had made the right decision to keep Sydney out of the loop. Her daughter's genuine anger and grief would make Irina's cover more convincing.  

"Dad?"

"Good morning, Sydney.  Coffee? Breakfast?" Jack closed the door to the patio and headed back to the kitchen.  

"Just coffee, Dad."  She looked him over somewhat critically, then asked softly, "Are you okay?"

"Nothing a little coffee won't cure," he said as he reached for two mugs. 

"You don't have to watch anymore, if you don't want to." 

"I'm sorry about last night.  It just took me a little by surprise.  I'm fine, sweetheart."

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment.  He placed the mugs on the small table and they sat, quietly sipping their coffee. 

"Um, Dad, about last night."  Jack stiffened slightly.  "That chef, he thought you had a date?"

Jack nodded cautiously, not knowing where the conversation was going.

"It was kind of weird."

"Weird? In what way?" He was almost afraid to hear her answer.

"I don't know.  I guess I never thought of you in that way before."  At Jack's questioning look, Sydney tried to explain further.  "With other women."

Jack relaxed.  "So, what are you asking me?" he teased.

"I don't know.  In my mind, it was always you and Mom. I don't remember you dating when I was growing up.  I always thought it was because you were being faithful to Mom." She gave him a wry smile.  "Silly of me, right?" Her look became pensive.  "Funny, even knowing what Mom did, I still think of you as..."

"Not silly," Jack interrupted abruptly.  "Naive, maybe."  He looked at his daughter, eyes hooded.  "I haven't lived as monk, if that's what you're wondering.  I'm sure your mother hasn't abstained, either."

Sydney nodded.  She wasn't sure why, but her father's admission saddened her. Her memories of her parents marriage had assumed fairy tale status over the years.  She hated when real life reared its ugly head.    

"Do you mind if I go ahead and start watching the rest of your trip to Europe?" She decided it best to avoid the word 'honeymoon'.

He smiled, immediately noticing the careful choice in words.  "Only if I get to control the remote."


	7. 7

Jack made his way to the media center and fiddled with the DVD player.  He removed two of the disks and replaced them with two new ones.  

"Wow, Dad, how many discs does that thing hold?"  For a man who probably rarely watched television, the equipment appeared state-of-the-art.  

"Only ten. The ones that hold more are too bulky." He sat next to her and once again she leaned comfortably against him.  "Sydney, do you mind if I replay a part from last night?"

"Cuvee?"  She could feel the tension in his body, but his voice and demeanor betrayed nothing. 

Taking her response as acquiescence, Jack started the video.  He watched as Laura soaked in the afternoon sun.  Then he saw it. It was very slight, not ordinarily noticeable.  Just before he panned the camera to the bridge, her smile froze.  The camera picked up Cuvee, walking purposefully toward Irina.  His direct path would have taken him to where she was standing at the bridge wall.  When she moved to Jack's side, Cuvee made a slight switch in direction, enough to jostle Irina into him.  It was clear from the video that her move startled him.  Why had she changed spots?  Had she stayed in place, the drop would have been unremarkable.  As it was, Jack ended up with a very clear camera shot of Cuvee.  

She could have accidentally taped over that section of the tape later, but she left it intact. Insurance, perhaps?  Something to hold over Cuvee should the need arise?  There were too many questions, not enough answers.  Jack wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answers.

"Dad, you can hit the play button now.  I am absolutely sure that is Cuvee.  That is why you paused it, right?"

Jack, startled out of his thoughts, did as she asked.  The video picked up again in their hotel room.  Jack was sound asleep on the queen size bed, the blanket fortuitously covering areas that might cause his daughter embarrassment.

_"Good morning, Sunshine." Laura's voice was light and teasing.  Jack turned groggily and looked at the clock._

_"For gods sake, Laura, It's three in the morning.  Come back to bed."_

_"I can't do that.  This is our hour. Our special hour." She continued holding the camera, zooming closer to Jack.  A hand reached down and caressed him behind his ear and moving slowly down his chin.  Jack opened his eyes._

_"Our special hour?  Why can't three in the afternoon be our 'special' hour?"  He closed his eyes again, having trouble staying awake, despite the caresses._

"No. That wouldn't make it special. This way, it's just us.  Not your job interfering, not mine." Then, more vehemently, "No one else. This hour is for the important moments.  Birthdays, anniversaries. Our wedding night."  Laura carefully placed the camera on a table, allowing full view of the bed.  Slowly, she came in to view, her obviously naked body covered by a lacy robe.

"Dad.  I think we can skip this part."  Her father had zoned out again.  This time she shook him to get his attention.  "Give me that remote.  Now!"

Jack looked at her blankly, then at the tv.  His eyes widened in shock, realizing what his daughter was about to witness.  Wordlessly, he handed her the remote.    


	8. 8

Rating Warning - This portion is a strong R.  

If you are enjoying the story, I'd love a review.  I live for reviews.  Really.  

I don't know why the spacing between paragraphs is off.  If someone else has had this problem and knows how to resolve it, please let me know.  It's probably MS Word.  

--------------------------------------------------------

I've included a link to the honeymoon hotel in case anyone is continued to watch her parents explore Heidelberg, while Jack's thoughts drifted back to his wedding night.  After their reception, they had hurried off to the airport to catch their plane to Germany. They arrived at the Frankfurt am Main airport and immediately headed out to Heidelberg.  By the time they settled in their room, it was early afternoon.  Not wanting to miss what remained of daylight and the view, they left the hotel and walked the short distance to the bridge gate. Alte Brucke, or Old Bridge in English, offered a spectacular view of the Neckar River.  Heidelberg Castle, nestled on the hillside above the old town, was easily seen from center of the bridge.

Jack focused the camera on his bride.  She stood at the wall of the bridge soaking in the beauty around her.  She radiated happiness.  He panned the camera away from her and over the crowd of tourists, picking out their hotel through the lens.

"I'm feeling a little ... tired.  Perhaps we should go and rest before dinner?" she said in his ear.  Just then, a man bumped into Laura, almost knocking her down.  She grabbed Jack for balance.  The man apologized and made his way down the bridge.  Jack put away the camera and pulled Laura into his arms.  She relaxed against him for a moment, then putting her arm through his, headed back to the hotel

When they returned to their room, he thought they were going to make love, but Laura brushed him off, deciding instead to take a shower.  He had been a little hurt, but reasoned that she was probably a little tired.  It was a logical conclusion, but it didn't stop him from brooding.  

Laura emerged from the tiny bathroom looking refreshed.  He was pleased to see she had donned the lacy robe he'd bought her. It revealed as much as it concealed and he felt his body respond to its seductive promise.  She slipped onto his lap and deposited a warm kiss on his forehead, then lightly on his lips.  His hands reached for hear breasts, but she stopped him.  

"Not now. We need to get ready for dinner." Another rejection. "Jack, no, don't look like that. I just want to wait until tonight.  After dinner.  The hotel clerk said the kitchens close early around here and I'm hungry. For food."  She touched him and felt him jump.  "I'll have this for dessert."  She kissed him lightly, again, and moved to table containing her make-up items.  

Reluctantly, he headed into the shower.  He hated cold showers. She was right, of course. Between the anxiety of the wedding, the well wishers at the reception, and the anticipation of their wedding trip, neither of them had eaten very much.  

The walked, arm-in-arm, to the restaurant, which was situated in an open square.  They selected a table outside and sat as close together as the chairs would allow.  She flirted with him all evening, her hands constantly touching him. First she brushed away an invisible crumb from his lips, then she'd find another on his chest, his lap, and finally, his groin.  He never could remember what they had for dinner that night.

When they returned to the room, a bottle of champagne was cooling in a bucket of ice, apparently a gift from the hotel.  

"The note says 'For your wedding night, with our compliments'. Did you tell them?" Jack asked, surprised by the gift.

"No, love, I didn't."  She touched his lips.  "But it probably wouldn't take a genius to figure out that we are on our honeymoon." 

Jack picked up the bottle and looked at the label.  French. Carefully, he opened the bottle and poured two glasses.  He offered one to Laura, but she put it aside, choosing his glass instead.  Dipping two fingers in the glass, she rubbed the wine against his lips.  His tongue followed her fingers.  She brought the glass to his mouth and he took a sip.  Once more she dipped and rubbed.  She allowed him another sip and brushed his lips with her own.  With each swallow, the kisses grew deeper and his desire stronger. The game continued with the glass he'd originally poured for her.

Finally, they fell to the bed.  She reached for the buttons of his shirt, laying a trail of kisses as each was loosened from their slot.  Her hands found the buckle of his belt and pulled it loose. She touched him through the fabric and he groaned.  Enjoying his agony, she brushed her hand lightly, up and down, up and down.  His penis strained against his boxers, he reached down to remove his pants and she grabbed his hand, pulling it to her lips, while her other hand continued to torment him.  

"Please, Laura, I don't know how much longer I can last." He was taut with desire and longing.  He wanted her now.  He needed to feel her around him, the warmth of her muscles tightening against him.

She freed him from his pants and boxers, her hand now brushing against naked skin.  He hiked her dress up, eager to remove her panties and found she was wearing none.  She smiled.  "Since I made you wait earlier, I thought I'd make it a little easier on you tonight."  

He couldn't speak.  She was so beautiful, so perfect.  And she was his. His wife. Forever.  Not for the first time, he wondered how he'd been so lucky.  

His hand sought the mound between her legs, wanting, needing her to be ready.  He felt her wetness and with a sigh, he pulled her to him.  She opened her legs and he thankfully thrust in to her.  They moved together, in the age old rhythm of sex, until each, finding their moment, lay sated in the others arms.

He fell into a hard sleep, waking again at the insistent sound of her voice.  

"Good morning, Sunshine."

He turned to the clock.  Three o'clock.  It was still dark out.  Laura's voice had been light and cheery.  He felt tired, like he'd been drugged.  Groggily he complained about the time.  He just wanted to hold her.  "Come to bed," he'd said and she'd talked about their special hour.  They made love again, this time Laura moved over him and he lay back, letting her bring him once again to the abyss.


	9. 9

Irina clicked off the cell phone and quickly wiped the memory clean.  Easing back into the crowded restaurant, she deftly returned the unit, owner none the wiser.  A swift, but practiced look around gave no indication of a tail, but it paid to be careful.  The dining area was crowded with tourists, taking an early lunch break before heading out on their afternoon expeditions. It was a good place to make the call, since the restaurant still provided the old fashioned telephone booths in the lobby.  It afforded her a degree of privacy, in case she was being watched. She slipped away from the restaurant and headed to a news stand, still watching for a tail. Seeing none, she selected her favorite fashion magazine. 

She smiled, remembering how grumpy Jack sounded when he answered the phone.  He accused her of deliberately waking him at three in the morning.  What else had he expected? It was their hour.  Mentally, she replayed their conversation. 

The day before, she eavesdropped on Sloane and Sark as they reviewed their plans. She couldn't fully trust Sark's loyalty and she needed to know if they were conspiring together. The revelation of Francie's true identity had shaken her.  Jack had been right not to tell Sydney about their plan.  The real Francie was Sydney's best friend.  While their daughter could be trusted not to say anything, there was a greater chance of her guard being down at home, especially around someone who supposedly knows nothing about her real job. 

The information about the mole had to be passed on to Jack, but not directly. It was entirely possible Jack's phone was bugged. Misdirection was her best weapon.  As far as anyone knew, she had duped Jack once again.  She would use that to their advantage. A little malicious phone call from his 'beloved' wife would not be out of Irina's character.  Especially if said wife called in the early hours of the morning.  How much more cruel could she be?  Wording the message would be a little harder. 

Irina thought about their time together. She would have to use something from their shared past.  Jack's pride in their yard was well known to Sloane and the CIA.  It had been such a mess when they bought the house. They worked long hours together on weekends getting it in shape.  She had planted a garden that first year and the squirrels got to most of it. Their neighbor had a similar problem with gophers. Gophers were like moles. It might work. Anyone intercepting the call would think she was taunting him, reminding him of what a fool he'd been.  

Jack had responded perfectly to everything.  He sounded grumpy, angry, bitter.  Even the accusation about Gerard Cuvee could be used to her advantage, should anyone question the call.  She only hoped he'd understood her message.  

Cuvee. She knew Jack wasn't trying to send his own message.  He had been genuinely upset.  She knew immediately that he'd been watching their old videos.  When they were married ... no she corrected herself mentally, they were still married ... when they were living together, she always knew which of his missions were dangerous and which were routine. She understood now that watching the videos was a coping mechanism for him.  For her, though, they symbolized the beginning of weeks, sometimes months of anxiety.  He never talked about those missions, either before or after.  The not knowing was almost unbearable, but she was thankful that by not knowing, she had nothing to pass on to the KGB. They drugged her a few times, just to be sure she wasn't holding back on them.  It was difficult enough, knowing that she was the cause of so many other deaths. To be responsible for Jack's ... it didn't bear thinking.

Jack must really be worried if he was pulling out their old videos.  Obviously he was watching the early ones.  His proposal, Kings Dominion, their wedding, the honeymoon.  She knew them all by heart, each moment, each image, indelibly etched in her memory.  They had been her constant companions on those lonely, anxious nights awaiting Jack's safe return. 

She closed her eyes, capturing the images from the recesses of her mind. Her wedding day. The forecast had promised rain, but sunshine held sway instead. All the countless hours of preparation came to seamless fruition thanks, for the most part, to Jack's mother. It had been almost perfect with only a few sour notes to the day. Her mother-in-law had been wonderful, filling the void of her own mother's absence. Jane, Jack's older sister, had agreed to be her maid of honor.  She knew Jane didn't like her. How much was not fully apparent until she watched the video.  

Her father-in-law was a rigid disciplinarian, who rarely showed emotion.  She doubted he'd ever bestowed affection on either of his children.  Jack and Jane had learned early to cover their feelings with a mask of indifference. Then she entered the picture.  Jack's father had treated her like royalty.  She could do no wrong.  He insisted she wear his wife's wedding dress.  She had accepted, unaware of the strong emotions it sparked.  The dress had originally been kept for Jane's wedding, but once Laura had worn it, that was no longer a possibility.  For so many years Jane worked to win her father's approval and affection, never succeeding.  The dress became a symbol of all that she had never had. All that should have been hers was now Laura's.   

Many years later, in those quiet hours of solitary confinement, Irina realized the dress had become a symbol for her mother-in-law, too.  She understood then, what Irina had not; that her husband showered so much attention on Laura not because he approved his son's choice in wife, but because he'd fallen in love with her himself. Thankfully, Jack's mother never held it against her, always treating her with love and kindness. 

Irina was glad she knew none of this on her wedding day. On that day, her entire focus was on Jack.  She cleared her mind of everything.  There was no KGB, no CIA.  Only the two of them.  Until she saw Khasinau.  He gave her a thumbs up, congratulating her on being so successful in her mission.  She wanted to cry.  Instead, she whispered to Jack the words she wanted him to hold on to forever. "Always remember I love you".

Not content with her wedding day reminder, the KGB followed her on her honeymoon.  She was horrified when saw Gerard Cuvee heading toward her.  What possessed her to make sure Jack caught him in the camera, she didn't know.  There were many times she could have erased that portion of the video. Instead it served as a reminder of who and what she really was.

They had gone back to their room almost immediately after Cuvee bumped into her.  Jack in eager anticipation, ready to begin their wedding night.  She wanted, needed, a shower. Jack's disappointment had been obvious and she hated turning him away.  As the water rained over her, she tried to clear away all thought of the KGB, but it was useless. Standing in the shower, allowing the hot sharp spray to bite in to her skin, she finally accepted her fate.  Duty had given her the one man she truly loved and who loved her in return, but that same duty required her to betray him every day for the rest of their married life. Life was cruel sometimes.

_She had flirted with Jack all through dinner. Touching him with her hands, then her eyes. They were both ready by the time they returned to the room. Jack had been surprised to find a bottle of champagne waiting.  She had not.  It was drugged, of course.  Cuvee wanted to set up a meeting.  She weighed her options and realized she would have to follow through with Cuvee's plans or suffer the consequences.  _

_Jack poured the champagne and she shamefully used it in foreplay. It wasn't long before the combination of jet lag, sex, and the drugged wine overcame Jack and he was sound asleep.  She held him close for a while, then reluctantly set out to meet Cuvee._

_"What do you want, Gerard?" She hadn't meant to sound so belligerent.  It wouldn't do for the KGB to know how she really felt about Jack._

_"Irochka," he said smoothly.  "I thought you'd be relieved to see me, to spare you from the American's lovemaking."  His beady eyes watched her closely and she schooled her features to avoid any appearance of emotion._

_"How can I do my job when the KGB keeps interrupting me? A man expects his wife to stay with him on their wedding night. What if the drug wasn't strong enough and he finds me gone?"_

_"This won't take long, Ira.  There is a bookstore by the University. They sell rare and collectible books.  You will stop there tomorrow.  I have written the address and your passcode here.  Memorize it and destroy it. You will arrange to have books shipped to your home. Further orders will be given to you through code on the front leaf of each book." _

_Jack was still asleep when she returned to the room. Cuvee had given her a clean bottle of champagne to replace the drugged one.  Once all the evidence was removed, she sat and watched Jack. It was almost three am. Her emotions were in a turmoil. She had to do something to keep her sanity.  Then an idea hit her.  From now on, this would be their time. No one, no thing, would interfere. There would be no KGB, no CIA.  Only the two of them. And she would make it special.  She shed her clothes and donned the lacy robe Jack had bought her. _

_The camera was sitting on the dresser, she grabbed it and moved to Jack's side, shaking him gently to bring him out of his sleep. _

_"Good morning, Sunshine."  He was still groggy from the drugged champagne.  _

_"For gods sake, Laura, It's three in the morning.  Come back to bed." She zoomed the camera in closer.  Her fingers lightly along the lobe of his ear and along his chin.  She saw him become more alert.  "I can't do that," she responded. "This is our hour. Our special hour." _

"Our special hour?  Why can't three in the afternoon be our 'special' hour?"  He almost went back to sleep on her.  Carefully, she placed the camera in full view of the bed.  She wanted to capture this moment on tape. She slipped back in bed.  Her hands began the process of seduction. Lightly she brushed her hand across his chest, her mouth followed her hand. She felt his breathing quicken ...

"Laura?" Startled, she looked up.  Jane. Of all the times and places they could have met again, fate chose this one. She looked around, hoping no one was watching her.  "My god, it is you.  Does Jack know you're alive?"


	10. 10

"Laura?" Startled, Irina looked up. Jane. Of all the times and places they could have met again, fate chose this one. She looked around, hoping no one was watching her. "My god, it is you. Does Jack know you're alive?" 

Quickly, she jumped to her feet.  "You can't tell anyone you've seen me, Jane. They will kill you.  Pretend you've made a mistake." When Jane didn't respond, she hissed, "Do it, now."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. For a minute I thought... But of course, you can't be.  Laura died over twenty years ago. How silly of me." 

"That's quite all right," she responded in her heaviest accent.  "It happens to me all the time.  I just have one of those faces."  Under her breath. "Jack knows."

Jane smiled pleasantly and proceeded on her way. Irina sat back, sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. Had Jane taken her warning seriously? She was safe as long as she kept her mouth shut.  Sloane wouldn't risk killing her, because that would draw Jack to their location.  There was still a chance that Sloane would take action anyway, simply to eliminate the risk.  One of her contacts would need to keep a protective eye on Jane, she resolved.   

.........................................................

Sydney paused the video and glanced at her father. Their honeymoon had been an eye-opener for her. Until now, she only had the vague memories of a six year old. Now, her heart ached for her father.  How he had loved 'Laura'.  It was there in every gesture, every touch, every look. But she already knew that. Even as a child she recognized the depth of his feelings toward her mother. How many times had she found him asleep in the recliner, holding 'Laura's' photograph to his heart?  

The greater revelation was her mother.  Her father was right, she **did** want to believe her Mom really loved him. It would make everything somehow _right_.She watched the tapes, greedy for any look, any word that would reveal her mothers true feelings.  How could the woman on the video not be truly in love? It seemed impossible, but Sydney realized she was watching with a daughter's eyes.  

She needed to be more objective. This would be a good time to make use of her 'spy' training.  Was it possible to separate the woman on the screen from the woman who was her mother?  She cast her mind over everything she had seen.  

**The Proposal:** She acknowledged that Irina's reactions could have simply been an act. 

**The Rollercoaster:** Nothing - except Irina had held on to her father for the first drop.  No, that couldn't count. Anyone would have probably done the same.

**The Wedding:** Irina appeared happy, even radiant.  Could her father be right?  Happy because she'd pulled off a huge coup for the KGB? Possible.  But one thing stood out.  The woman in the video was oblivious to everyone and everything around her except Jack. Irina was definitely startled when she recognized Khasinau in the congregation.  Still, the whole thing was a toss-up. Irina's job was to focus on Jack and her reaction to Khasinau may simply have been surprise that he would risk being seen by CIA agents.

**The Honeymoon: **Most of it looked pretty typical of honeymooners everywhere.  Still, Irina seemed a little more subdued after their first day encounter with Cuvee. It was difficult to tell much from the video, since the camera didn't offer the opportunity for 'couple' shots.  Except. Except the early morning waking of Jack. There was something in Irina's voice.  Determination certainly.  She had a definite purposefulness in her attitude, but more importantly, there was a stronger emotion motivating her. Desire. And that, Sydney was positive, had been real.

Sydney thought about the man sitting next to her.  Her father. It was hard to reconcile the young man in the video with the person she called 'Dad'. She tried to see him with young Irina's eyes. He was tall and athletic, without being overly muscular. A man who worked out for strength and conditioning rather than bulk. His face was rugged, rather than classically handsome, the naturally serious expression, softened then by a gentle smile lurking in the corners of his mouth.  What struck Sydney the most was his quick wit and wicked sense of humor.  It was a side of him she'd never seen.  

There was a sexuality about him that she had never really noticed, either. Irina certainly felt it.  It was evident in her eyes, every time she looked at him. And other women saw it, too. Irina noticed them noticing, judging from the possessive way she held on to him when the looks were too open.  Sydney could almost hear her saying 'mine'.  Did women still look at her Dad like that? Perhaps it was better not to go there.  There were just some things a daughter shouldn't know, she decided.

Sydney looked at her father. He was lost in thought, happy ones judging by his expression. She smiled to herself, glad that he was remembering his honeymoon without rancor. A good nights rest obviously worked miracles.  Except for the early morning ringing of the phone, she suddenly recalled. Who would call her father at such a time?  Not the CIA. If there had been any new developments, he would have immediately gone to headquarters.  Not his sister. He would have told her if there was a family emergency.  

There was something about the call that nagged at her, begging her to solve the puzzle.  All her instincts screamed that this was significant.  The solution was there, waiting in the recesses of her mind, just out of reach.  She looked up to the television screen, seeking an answer from the faces frozen before her. Slowly, she breathed in and out, focusing inward, as pieces of information bumped randomly against one another. And then she had it.

"So Dad," Sydney asked, testing her new found knowledge, "who called you this morning?"


	11. 11

"So Dad," Sydney asked, testing her new found knowledge, "who called you this morning?"

"Called? This morning?" Jack responded flatly.  "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Three am.  Ring, ring." Sydney reminded him helpfully. 

"I'm sure you were dreaming, Sydney." Jack allowed a slight annoyance to creep into his voice.

"Nice try, Dad.  It woke me up...and I heard you talking."

Jack paled slightly.  "You heard ..."

"Oh, don't worry.  I couldn't make out what you were saying." 

Jack was silent for a moment.  "Why did you ask, if you already knew?"

"I didn't.  I don't.  At least, not for certain.  It was Mom, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

Sydney sighed.  Sometimes, talking with her father was like pulling teeth.  "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What did she have to say?"

Jack considered this, then smiled slightly.  "She was concerned about my lawn care."

"She called you all the way from where ever she is to ask you about the lawn?!" Sydney was incredulous. Her father must be holding something back.  

"That's what I said," Jack answered smugly.

"Anything else?"

"Er, nothing of interest," Jack mumbled.

Her father was mumbling.  Mumbling, for god's sake.  One thing was for sure, Sydney realized, her father was a completely different person whenever her mother was involved.  

"Why don't we watch the next video, Sydney?" Her father was obviously trying to deflect her. She considered pushing him a little further, but decided on a better tactic.  A more subtle approach was required. 

"Sydney? The video? " Jack prompted, pointedly.

Sydney complied, hitting the play button on the remote.  The scene flicking before them showed her mother, receiving a teacher of the year award.  She had the award hanging in her bedroom, one of the many of her mother's things her father had given to her.

The phone rang.  When her father made no move to answer it, Sydney paused the video and picked up the closest extension.  "Bristow residence.  Sydney speaking."  She felt like she was back in Junior High school.  The nanny she had for her three years in middle school had been very proper, very old school.  There was a proper way to sit, to eat, and to answer the telephone.  Nanny Jenkins would be suitably horrified at her current telephone habits, but at least the sitting and eating manners had stuck.

"Sydney? Kendall asked me to call your father.  There's been a new development.  We need you both right away."

"Okay, Weiss.  Thanks, I'll tell my Dad."  She replaced the phone into its cradle and gently touched her father's shoulder.  He had been pretty deeply lost in thought, so her touch startled him.  "Weiss called.  We have to go."

"You go on ahead, sweetheart.  I need to change into something more suitable."

"Dad, you look fine. It's not like you are wearing jeans."  

"Thanks honey, but I'll be more comfortable in a suit and tie."

His suit of armor, she realized.  The formality of the suit and tie kept people from getting too close.  "Okay.  I'll see you there." 

Jack listened as the door closed behind his daughter, then leaned back into the sofa.  Sydney had paused the video somewhere in the middle of 'Laura's' acceptance speech.  He remembered that night very well.  It was the first time he'd met her UCLA colleagues. She hadn't wanted him to attend and that had bothered him.  They argued about it for days.  Finally, he exploded.  

_"What is it Laura?  Are you so ashamed of me, you don't want me around your college buddies?" Goaded by an anger he couldn't explain, he pushed her even further.  "Or are you having an affair and you're afraid I'll find out?  Is that it?" _

_Laura slapped him, hard.  "How dare you say such a thing.  How dare you even think such a thing!"_

_"Then why, Laura?" Anger and hurt warred equally within him.  If she wasn't having an affair, then she must not want to be seen with him.  It was the only conclusion he could reach.  And that hurt._

_"Jack."  Her voice was now soft and tender. She reached for his hand and caressed it softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you by not having you come with me."  He tried to pull away, but she held fast.  "I don't want to share," she told him finally._

_"Share? I don't want to share your award.  I just want to be a part of you receiving it."_

_"No, sweetheart.  Not the award.  There's a dance following the presentation.  You'll have to dance with all the women and I don't want you to."_

_"Laura, you're telling me that we've been fighting because you don't want me to dance with a few women?" _

_"Don't say you haven't been warned."_

The phone rang again, interrupting his thoughts.  

"Bristow."

"I had a feeling you hadn't left yet.  Dad, Weiss said it was urgent."

"I'm on my way."  Reminiscing would have to wait until later.


	12. 12

Jack pulled into his driveway and noticed Sydney's car parked along the street. He ran a hand impatiently through his hair. It had been a difficult day and he wasn't sure if he was up to opening more old wounds. Not that he wasn't thrilled to share the videos with his daughter. 

He had carried the burden of Irina's defection alone for so many years that this sharing of the past brought with it a form of release. It would have been much more preferable for Sydney to never have learned the truth about her mother and, had it been within his power, he would have carried that information to the grave. But such is life and he long ago learned to play with the hand he was dealt. Holding on to secrets have a way of weighing a person down and its heavy burden had taken its toll. 

Now, though, the two of them had so much more in common. Best of all, he was being given a second chance, a golden opportunity to reconnect with his daughter. He just hoped he wouldn't screw it up.

But tonight.  Tonight he really felt the need to be alone. 

The meeting that afternoon had been short and to the point.  He was the last to arrive and Kendall gave him an impatient nod.  He barely had time to sit when Kendall launched into the briefing. 

_"A few hours ago, intelligence was informed that one of CNN's top foreign news reporters went missing in Germany.  This wouldn't normally fall under our jurisdiction and we almost missed it as a vital clue in our search for Sloane."_

_Jack tensed at the mention of the missing reporter, then relaxed when he realized the kidnapping took place in Germany.  Jane was in Milan._

_"The journalist is Jane Goodwin," Kendall continued over Jack and Sydney's gasps.  "I'm sorry, Jack." Kendall gave him a sympathetic look._

_Jack heard Vaughn whisper to Sydney "Do you know her?" Sydney responded quietly, "My aunt, Dad's sister."_

_"What happened?" Jack was desperately trying to recover from his shock.  It didn't make sense.  Why would Sloane want his sister?_

_"The head of the Milan desk for CNN said they received a call, an anonymous tip about a nuclear arms shipment being smuggled through Amsterdam.  They set up a meeting in Frankfurt, specifically requesting Mrs. Goodwin. They also stipulated that she come alone or the deal was off."_

_"He let her go without back-up?" Jack decided he would personally strangle that particular station chief._

_"No.  He called in one of his best undercover reporters to go with her, but she slipped out without him.  The only reason we found out so quickly that she was missing is because she failed to check in with her husband at the appointed time."  Kendall looked at Jack briefly.  "He wanted to call you, Jack, but the authorities in Germany wouldn't let him.  They are trying to keep this under wraps, as you can understand. We got word about this when he finally told them you were CIA."_

_Jack nodded, understanding what his brother-in-law was going through.  "I need to talk to him.  Is there any way I can reach him?"_

_"It's all set up in my office.  We already have a team on site to investigate.  Some of you will be called in later to supplement."_

Jack sat in the car a moment before heading in to the house.  Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd been born under some unlucky star. Once upon a time he thought he had it all, only to learn he had nothing. He thought of his unyielding father and his attempts to measure up.  He thought of those golden years with Laura and the devastation when he learned who she really was. Then he thought of Sydney and his heart ached. The day she was born, he held her in his arms and vowed to protect her from all harm.  He failed there, too. 

Sydney looked up as he entered the den.  "Hey, Dad, any more news?"  Jack shook his head no. "When you didn't come home, I thought they let you go to Germany."

"No, I'd only be in the way. When they get a concrete lead, then I'll go."

"I've poured your whiskey for you. You look beat. Why don't you go change?"

"Thanks." Jack gratefully took the drink and headed up the stairs.  With a shock, he realized that it felt good to have Sydney home tonight. Perhaps being alone was not what he needed after all.  

He took a hot shower, relishing the bite of the water against his skin. Refreshed, he made his way back to Sydney.  She was scanning through the videos obviously looking for something.  She hit the pause button when he entered.  

"I'm trying to find our trip to Disney World.  It's on this disk somewhere."  She turned back to the tv. "Oh, this must be it.  I remember wearing that dress for the plane trip."  She hit the play button.  

"Sydney, I don't think that's the Disney trip..."

_"Oh, Sydney, you look so pretty in that dress," the nanny exclaimed.  "Your Daddy will be so proud of his little princess."_

_"Daddy's coming home, Daddy's coming home," little Sydney sang as she pirouetted for the camera.  "I love my Daddy.  He bought me my special dress and now he's coming home."_

_"I think I hear him.  Are you ready?" _

_Sydney nodded and danced around happily, unable to contain her excitement.  The door opened and the camera focused on Jack. The camera dipped slightly._

_"Oh my God, Mr. Bristow. Are you okay?" The nanny didn't bother to conceal her horror._

_Jack nodded and walked in slowly. He was gaunt and his clothes hung on him.  There were shadows under his eyes and a weariness of spirit that should not have adorned one so young._

_"I've been ill," he explained. "That's why I wasn't able to get back sooner.  I didn't want to worry you or Sydney." As the camera backed away, Jack reassured her. "I'm fine now and not contagious.  Nothing to worry about."_

_He glanced down at Sydney, who had suddenly become quiet. The camera captured his anguished look, as he realized his daughter was afraid of him.  Moving down on one knee, he put out his hands.  "Sydney?" he whispered tentatively._

_"Da...daddy?"_

_"Don't be afraid, sweetheart. It's only me and I could really use a hug."_

_"Daddy!"  Sydney flung herself into her fathers arms and Jack held her tight, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.  "Are you crying, Daddy?"_

Sydney looked up at her father, wiping away her own tears.  "Oh my God, Dad." Her voice shook. "What did they do to you?"  

"You know?"

"About the solitary confinement?  Yes.  Sloane told me."  Heart heavy, Sydney reached over and squeezed her father's hand. "I didn't know what they had done, though.  I didn't remember that," she said, vaguely pointing at the screen. "You don't want to talk about it, do you?" she asked softly.

"I'd rather forget. It was one of the worst times of my life, but knowing you were home waiting for me got me through it."

Sydney got up and cut off the video equipment.  Reaching down, she kissed her father on the forehead.  "It's late. You're tired and I am, too."  She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.  "Disney trip tomorrow?  I remember we had a good time."

"Yes, that was a good vacation." He got up and followed her up the stairs.  "Good night, Sydney." 

"Night, Dad."

He worried about Jane as he prepared for bed and resigned himself to another fretful night.  Amazingly, he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  Then the phone rang.  Groggily, he looked at the alarm clock.  Three am.  Irina.  He sighed and reached for the phone.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

"Irina..."

"Jack," she interrupted.  "I haven't much time.  Is your line clean?"

"Yes."

"Sloane has Jane.  She ran in to me accidentally yesterday, shortly after I talked to you.  I tried to protect her, but she gave my man the slip. I'm sorry.  I'll do everything I can to keep him from harming her."

"Where is she?"

"I can't tell you that. He would know I gave you the information and then all this would be for nothing."

"Dammit, Irina."

"No, Jack, I can't.  I would tell you if I could. I promise I will do my best to watch out for her."

Jack closed his eyes and prayed it would be enough.

"I haven't much time.  They are watching me pretty closely.  When he questioned me about my call yesterday, I told him I was checking in with my contacts.  What did you watch today?"

"What?" He was startled at the sudden change of subject.

"You've been watching our old videos" Irina said with obvious patience. 

Jack was silent. 

"Jack?"

"We were watching the one where you won 'Teacher of the Year'."

"We?" Was that jealousy he heard in her voice?

"Sydney is watching them with me," Jack responded grudgingly.

"Oh.  I'm glad." 

"I guess I now know the real reason why you didn't want me to go." Jack tried to keep his voice cool, but the anger slipped through.

"Real reason?"

"I messed up a meeting with your handler.  You were going to meet up with him that night, weren't you?"

Irina was quiet on the other end. "No, Jack. I told you the truth. And I was right," she retorted smugly. "Or don't you want to remember?"

"Who is the mole?" Jack said, changing the subject.

"Ah, you figured out my clue.  I knew you would.  I can't tell you.  But I'm sure if you look close enough, you'll discover who it is for yourself.  I have to go. I love you."

"I love .." Jack stopped as he realized what he had almost said. He caught the shadow of movement out of the corner of his eye and realized with a start that Sydney was standing at his bedroom door.

"That was Mom, wasn't it." 

Jack felt a slight flush creep up his neck.  How much had she heard? 

"Yes.  She was just checking to see if I had taken care of my lawn problem."

"Dad, I am not a child.  What about the mole?" Sydney stood her ground.  His heart lurched.  She looked so much like her mother.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you.  She told me gophers last night, but she meant moles."

"I wish you wouldn't do that." 

"Do what?" 

"You keep trying to protect me.  I'm a big girl now and I can take care of myself." Sydney sighed in exasperation. "The mole?" She said pointedly.

Jack gave his own sigh and rubbed at his neck.  "Your mother says someone close to you is feeding information to Sloane.  She can't say who, but you need to be careful."

Sydney nodded.  "Thank you.  I will.  Now, I guess we both need to get some rest."  She came over to where Jack was sitting and slipped an arm around him.  "I love you, Dad." 

Jack felt a lump in his throat.  He tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come.  Sydney gave him a smile and a kiss on the cheek.  "Sleep tight."  And then she was gone.  

"I love you, too," he whispered.

"Just so you know, I heard you," Sydney called to him from the hall. "You can't take it back."

Jack chuckled, marveling at the special gift that was his daughter. 

He lay back against the pillows, and thought of Irina.  She said she loved him. He had responded back without thinking. She had told him how much she loved him in Panama, too, and he desperately wanted to believe her. Thinking of Panama brought a familiar ache in his loins.  He tried to concentrate on something else. What else had they talked about? The only thing he could think of was the 'Teacher of the Year' and that damn dance. The memory of that night washed over him and he fell asleep, silently cursing her for being right about that night.


	13. 13

Irina slipped out of the phone booth and immediately spotted the tail.  This time she had made her call from a large hotel. She quickly ran down possible avenues of escape.  The hotel was not yet busy and her movements were too easily spotted.  Moving down the long hallway to the convention area, she spotted an empty conference room and formulated her plan.  The room was part of a larger ballroom, but the paneling had been pulled out for smaller breakout sessions.  When not in use, the paneling folded back into a nook in the wall.  

As she had hoped, a panel matching the rest of the walls disguised the nook. It was visible only if the person was actually looking for it.  If her luck held, the man following her would think she'd gone through to the kitchen and disappeared out the back.  She slid behind the panel and waited, the sound of her beating heart almost drowning out the click as the conference room door opened.  Her breathing shallowed, waiting for his next move.  A sound came from the door leading to the kitchens and she heard him move quickly toward the noise.  Another click.  Had he gone out?  Irina slid to the floor, her prudent nature deciding to wait it out.  

The cell phone she had 'borrowed' would have to be turned in to the lost and found later.  In the meantime, she pulled the battery off the case.  This would have to be her last call to Jack for a while. It was getting too risky.  She hated being half a world away from him. Hated that she wasn't sitting at his side watching their family videos together.  He had been watching her 'teacher of the year' speech with Sydney. The whole week before the day of that speech had been miserable.  It was one of very few times an argument lasted longer than a day.  

Jack had been gone for two weeks when the awards committee called with the news.  When he left on the assignment he'd told her it would take about a month, so she wasn't expecting him back in time for the presentation.  Ordinarily, Jack couldn't get home soon enough for her, but this time she was glad he wouldn't be there.  There would be a dance following the ceremony and all participants were required to attend.  That was the crux of her problem.  She had attended several of the college's faculty parties, all without Jack.  After the first party, she made sure the only ones she signed up for were when he was out of town. 

This time, though, he had arrived home ten days early, thanks to the generosity of the CIA.  Someone must have informed them of the award.  

_He had been angry all week, ever since she told him to go back to his assignment. She hadn't meant it to come out the way it did.  Before she could explain, he had stormed out of the house, not returning until very late, long after she had already gone to bed.  She waited for him to come to their bedroom. He didn't. The next morning, she found him asleep in their guest room.  She had been prepared to give a full explanation the night before, but knowing he had chosen not to sleep with her made her angry and stubborn.  He slept in the guest room for the next three nights._

_Jack would leave for work early and arrive home late.  During the evenings, they were chillingly polite with each other.  Even at four, Sydney sensed that all was not right between her parents.  Their daughter had grown more tense as each day passed. On the fifth day, Sydney cried through dinner, refusing to eat anything.  Jack, giving her an accusatory glance, picked up his daughter and readied her for bed.  _

_Prepared for another evening alone, Laura cleaned up the kitchen and headed to their bedroom.  She was surprised to see Jack waiting for her.  He stood by the window seemingly lost in thought.  She moved to his side, hoping he'd gotten control of his anger.  He turned, eyes blazing and her heart sank. _

_"What is it Laura?  Are you so ashamed of me, you don't want me around your college buddies? Or are you having an affair and you're afraid I'll find out?  Is that it?" _

_Without thinking, her hand slapped against his face.  Her body shook with anger at the accusation. "How dare you say such a thing.  How dare you even think such a thing!"_

_"Then why, Laura?" She sensed his hurt, it was in his eyes when he finally he looked at her. Seeing his pain, she couldn't be angry with him anymore._

_"Jack." She reached for his hand and caressed it softly, willing him to understand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you by not having you come with me."  He tried to pull away, but she held fast.  "I don't want to share." There, she had said it.  _

_"Share? I don't want to share your award.  I just want to be a part of you receiving it."_

_"No, sweetheart.  Not the award.  There's a dance following the presentation.  You'll have to dance with all the women and I don't want you to."_

_"Laura, you're telling me that we've been fighting because you don't want me to dance with a few women?" _

_"Don't say you haven't been warned."_

_"Laura?" She moved closer, answering his question with a kiss.  He pulled her tightly against him, deepening the kiss.  "God, I've missed you."_

_"If you ever sleep in the guest room again it will be the last time, because I swear you won't live to see another day."  _

_....................................................._

_"Laura, you were wonderful." She was standing backstage, accepting the congratulations of her associates.  She smiled in acknowledgment of each compliment, but in truth, she only half listened.  Jack would be making his way to her and she wanted them to have at least a few moments alone before braving the dance. "Thanks, Denise."_

_"Will you get a load of the guy coming down the hallway. Yummm. Look at those hands."  Laura turned, knowing exactly who Denise was looking at. She had hoped to keep Jack a safe distance from Denise, whose nickname was 'The Dragonslayer'._

_"Hey, Denise, if he comes to the dance, you can check out that theory." This from Anna, one of Denise's best friends and fellow slayer.  Laura had watched the two in action at several of the faculty parties and vowed never to let Jack within ten feet of them.  And now, here he was, heading straight for the two people she least wanted him to meet.  Well, she couldn't fault his timing._

_"Hey, honey." Jack pulled her close and kissed her.  "Sorry I took so long getting back here.  I took the video camera to the car." _

_He looked at her two companions and she sighed inwardly, realizing they were not going away until introduced.  "Jack, this is Denise Fineman and Anna Smith.  They work in the Languages department. My husband, Jack Bristow." _

_"Pleasure to meet you." _

_"Oh, no," Denise purred, throwing Laura a wicked grin. "The pleasure is all mine. You're coming to the dance?"  At Jack's nod, "Oh good, well you must save one for me."_

_"Me, too, Jack," said Anna, not wanting to be outdone. "You don't mind if I call you Jack?"  Laura did, but Jack responded politely.  She stared at them pointedly and they finally took the hint._

_Jack watched a moment as they retreated to a side room and then looked down at Laura.  "Is my fly open?"  _

_Laura checked, making sure she gave him a light brush with her hand. It didn't hurt to remind him that he was hers. "No, why?"_

_He shook his head.  "I don't know. They kept staring...er, nevermind. Shall we go to the dance?"_

_......................................................................................_

_They strolled arm in arm to the campus building used for large functions. When they walked through the doors, Laura saw with dismay that Denise and Anna had already spread the word about Jack.  Liliana Daws, head of the English department whisked Jack from her before proper introductions could be made.  _

_Laura watched, amused, as Jack was passed from one woman faculty member to another.  He finally broke free after the sixth one and headed to her side._

_"Are you ready to leave?" Jack asked, a hint of anxiety in his voice._

_"No, dear.  I'm having far too much fun."_

_"Fun?" said Jack, missing the sarcasm. " You haven't danced yet. Speaking of which, we haven't danced yet." He took her arm, pulling her to the dance floor, but was stopped when Denise tapped his shoulder. _

_"My turn, Laura." _

_Jack gave her a pleading look, but she stepped aside.  She let him dance with a few more ladies before finally stepping in.  This of course had nothing to do with spotting Denise and Anna moving in for a second round.  _

_"Thank God." Jack whispered in her ear.  "Are they always like this?"_

_"Only if the guy is good looking and can dance.  Sometimes, even if he can't dance." She laughed up at him, "Was it bad?"_

_"I think I've been groped by professionals.  I swear one of them managed to unzip my fly."_

_Laura's eyes narrowed. "Which one?" _

_"I don't know.  I lost track.  Can we go home now?"_

Irina leaned against the wall. Remembering brought with it a flush of longing. She missed the feel of his skin against hers, the sound of his breathing, and the beat of his heart in her ear as she slept. She missed making up and making love. Especially making love. Soon, she promised herself, soon all would be right and Jack would be hers once more. The sound of people entering the room interrupted her thoughts.  It was time to leave.

She headed back to headquarters, nodding at Sloane as she entered the secure area.  He had Jane tied down to a chair and appeared to be questioning her.

Jane looked up as Irina entered the room.

"You! I should have known."


	14. 14

Please read and review.  I, like all the other writers on this board, live for reviews.  Don't be shy!  Every kind word makes me believe someone is actually reading this.

....................................................

Sydney stared at the file in her hand.  Kendall had given her a small assignment while they waited for new intelligence on Sloane and her mother.  He wanted the report back by that afternoon, but she couldn't seem to focus on it.  The image of her father, gaunt and pale from his six-month sojourn in prison haunted her.  

"Miss Bristow, um, Sydney, I put together those songs you wanted on a CD. I added a few of my favorites.  Oh, maybe I shouldn't have. I thought you might like them, but then maybe not.  My mother doesn't like them.  It could be because she's, you know, older, but she's a woman like you and maybe that is why..."

"It's okay, Marshall. I'm sure I'll love it."  She smiled up at him. "Thank-you."

The sound of the music soothed her as she started on the report.  Then, out of the blue, an idea formed.  Quickly she made her way to Marshall's workroom.  

"I need a favor, Marshall." 

"Anything, Miss ..., I mean, Sydney."

"What I'm going to ask is not exactly legal and you could get into trouble if anyone found out."

He looked at her for a moment, eyes troubled. "I trust you. You wouldn't ask me if it wasn't important, right? Because if it wasn't important it wouldn't be illegal and ..." 

"Right.  It has to do with my Dad."

"Agent Bristow?"  Marshall looked a little scared. "He won't kill me if he finds out, will he?"

"No. He won't have to know."  She took a deep breath, trying to decide where to start.  "After my mother 'died', the FBI arrested my father as an accessory to my mother." Marshall let out a shocked gasp.  "They kept him for six months before he was finally cleared.  I believe there are tapes of his interrogation. Vaughn told me that all the old videotapes were transferred into computer files several years ago.  I need to see those tapes. Do you think you could access them for me?"

"Finding them should be a piece of cake.  I have this really cool program.  It can find anything.  I once had it search the internet for an obscure Klingon word and it found it in like twenty seconds.  It was so amazing." 

"Marshall, there might be a flag attached to the file. You will really need to be careful."

"Difficult things I can do with ease, the impossible takes just a little longer." he joked.

"And Marshall, thanks.  You don't know how much this means to me."

Sydney finished up her report by early afternoon.  She would have finished it sooner, had she not kept watching for Marshall's return.  When he hadn't made it back to her by 4:30, she started to worry. Had he triggered any of the security flags and been hauled off without her knowledge? Just when she decided it was time to go in search of him, Marshall entered the room.  He looked a little pale and shaken.  She bit her lip.  Something had gone wrong.

"I'm sorry it took so long, but there were a lot of booby traps and I had to act like Luke Skywalker and ..." He stopped and took a deep breath.  "I'm not sure you should watch these Miss, er, Sydney.  I had to check to make sure they copied okay and ..."

"It will be okay, Marshall.  It's really important."  

She waited until he was out of sight before shuffling through the discs. There were eight of them, copied on both sides. Her hands trembled as she placed the first one in her computer. She could feel the beat of her heart as she nervously placed the headphones over her ears.

[i]"Good afternoon, Agent Bristow." The man behind the desk was in his late fifties and wore the air of one used to command.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Young Jack Bristow stood at almost military attention before his superior.  There was a look of deep sadness around his eyes and in the bend of his shoulders.

"You were married to Laura Bristow."  It wasn't a question.  Jack looked at the director, obviously puzzled.  

"Yes, sir." 

"Tell me Agent Bristow, have you ever heard the name Irina Derevko?"  

"No,sir. I don't believe so."  Jack shifted slightly, beginning to feel uneasy. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed two security guards placing themselves by the directors door.

"A courier brought this file over this morning. One of our KGB moles found this and forwarded it to us."

"You want me to investigate Ms. Derevko?"

"Oh, I think you've already 'investigated' her enough."   

"Sir?"

"It says here that she was assigned to meet and seduce an up and coming CIA agent, then steal secrets from him. According to this file she was quite successful. She managed to pull it off for over ten years." The director gave Jack a hard look.  "Do you want to know the name of the agent? No?  Here, let me read it for you?  Jonathan D. Bristow. Name strike a bell?"

"No, I don't believe you."  Jack stood, eyes blazing.  "Why are you doing this?  My wife's name was Laura.  You know that.  The FBI did a background check on her and she was clean. There must be some mistake."

"No mistake.  A photograph came with the file.  Your 'wife', as you call her, was really Irina Derevko.  Were you helping her, Agent Bristow?"

"Of course not.  My wife was not a Russian spy.  Her name was Laura and she died two weeks ago. You went to her funeral."  Jack ran a shaky hand through his hair.  "This can't be happening."

The director signaled to the guards and they entered the office.  Jack looked at them, then the director.  "I'm sorry, Agent Bristow, but the FBI wants you on suspicion of treason.  The guards will escort you to a holding facility until they pick you up."

"Wait. I have a daughter. She's only six.  I need to make arrangements with my sister." Jack was frantic by this time. 

The director considered for a moment.  "Give me her name and number.  You can meet with her before we release you to the FBI."

"Thank-you." Jack whispered. [/i]

Sydney stopped the disk, shaken by the scene she had just witnessed.  She looked down at the remaining discs. The key to understanding the man her father had become was buried in the videos, of that she was certain.  The first one had been bad enough and she could only imagine the rest would be worse.  If her father made it through, she could too, she resolved and quickly shoved the discs into her laptop case and headed out the door.  She had a date with her Dad to watch their Disney trip tonight.


	15. 15

Sydney made a quick stop at the grocery store before heading to her father's house.  Dinner would be served promptly at seven he'd told her earlier.  Pulling into the driveway, she checked her watch satisfied that she had arrived with a few minutes to spare.

"Hey Dad, I'm home."  

"I'm in the kitchen, honey, just finishing up." Her father was placing broiled pork chops next to a healthy serving of mashed potatoes and fried apples.  An aromatic tomato sauce simmered gently on the stove.  He spooned some of the sauce over the potatoes, then finished the dish with chilled asparagus spears.  "What's that?" he asked, indicating the plastic grocery bag she carried.

Grinning, she pulled out a box of Mickey Mouse ice cream bars.  "Dessert!"

.~*~

"I forgot what a good cook you were," Sydney sighed, replete.  "I've been looking forward to watching the video tonight.  I still have the Mickey ears you bought me that year."  She settled back against the couch while her father fiddled with the DVD player.  

"I haven't watched this video in years.  Don't get your hopes up too high.  It could just be very boring shots of you going round and round on the carousel. It was your favorite and we went there a lot."  

"That's so weird. I always want to ride them whenever I go to the fair." There was something in her father's eyes as he looked at her, a glimmer revealing a knowledge she didn't have.  "Tell me."  He didn't answer, pretending to adjust the television set.  "Dad?"  

"It reminded you of your mother," he finally admitted.  "You always loved riding the horses. You would pretend you were a princess and your mother was the queen."

"And you? Were you the king?"

"Yes."  He pushed a few more buttons then started the video.

"Daddy, how do planes fly?" Sydney looked up at her father with the earnest trusting eyes only children possess.  

_"Magic."_

_The little girls eyes grew wide.  "Oh."  She gazed at her father in apparent awe.  "Are you going to fly the plane?"  _

_"No, honey, why?"_

_"Mommy said you were a magician.  She told me you cast a spell on her and that's why she loved you so much."  Her lip trembled.  "I don't know zackly what that means, but Mommy said it was good."_

_"Exactly," Jack corrected automatically. "I think it's time for us to get on the plane, sweetheart," he continued abruptly. Young Sydney skipped to the doorway.  "Daddy and I are going to Disney World," she told the attendant importantly.  The man smiled back, pulling the carbon copy from the tickets.  "Have a good time, sweetie."  Then looking up at Jack, "What a cutie.  When she grows up, you'll have to fight off the boys."_

_They made their way into the cabin, Jack juggling the camera while searching for their seats._

_"Can I look out the window, Daddy?" _

_"Daddy's a little tired honey, if I let you sit by the window, will you promise to stay in your seat while I'm resting?"_

_ Sydney looked at her father in alarm.  "Are you okay, Daddy?"  There was a fear in her eyes that didn't belong on one so young. _

_"I'm fine, sweetheart. I'm not going to die." The camera shifted as he leaned over to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.  "Remember, I promised." The little girl nodded, but the fear never quite left her eyes._

.~*~

The camera zoomed in on the carousel.  Sydney waved to her father, looking every bit the princess in her Cinderella dress.  A woman in her late twenties obscured the view momentarily.  Jack moved to refocus on his daughter, but the woman was headed directly to him.

[i_]"Daddy, look at me.  I have the bestest horse." Sydney squealed over the carousel music.  _

_"Is that your daughter?" a soft husky voice inquired.  "She's very pretty."  A hand came into view, as the woman pointed.  "My son is riding the unicorn right behind her."_

_"Thank you," Jack responded seriously. "Your son seems a little nervous."_

_She laughed. "It's his first time riding on one of these.  My ex didn't like 'sissy stuff' as he termed it.  He'll probably divorce me all over again when he finds out how I've corrupted his son.  I'm Sissy, by the way.  Short for Cecilia."_

_"Jack." _

_"That dress is really cute, she looks just like Cinderella.  Did your wife make it?"_

_"No."_

_"I'll have to ask her where she bought it."_

_"My wife is dead." This came out flat, emotionless. _

_"Oh, I'm so sorry."_

_"I'm not," Jack cut her off harshly._

Sydney sat stunned.  The warm and loving man she had seen in all the previous videos changed before her eyes.  Dr. Jekyll became Mr. Hyde. She was growing so used to the Dr. Jekyll side of her father that she almost forgot the Mr. Hyde of her childhood. The change was so drastic; she knew there had to be a cause beyond her mother's betrayal.  Hopefully the discs in her laptop would provide her with an answer.  She would have to call in sick in the morning.

_The camera faded to black and opened once more as they stood toward the back of an endless line heading into the Haunted House. _

_"I'm scared, Daddy."_

_"Scared?  It's just pretend, honey."_

_"But it has ghosts.  Do you think Mommy's ghost will be there?"_

"Sydney, ghosts are not real.  Your mother is dead.  She is not coming back, as a ghost or otherwise."

Sydney watched as tiny tears welled up in her younger self.  Her father had the camera focused on his daughter, but did not seem to notice the distress his words had caused. She looked over at her father.  His eyes were transfixed on the screen, only a slight glistening of his eyes betrayed the effect young Sydney's tears had on him.

"You were wrong, Dad," she whispered softly.  "Ghosts are real.  We've been living with one for over twenty years." At her father's glare, she decided against pointing out that he'd been wrong about her mother as well.

_The camera continued to pan the crowd, resting occasionally on the clever grave markers placed on a small hill along the entrance of the house.  Sydney babbled happily, Jack dutifully recording it all for posterity.  _

_"Oh dear!  You'll think I'm stalking you."  Jack swung the camera toward the voice. The woman from the carousel gave them a jaunty smile.  "Tommy has been begging me all week to take him to the Haunted House. We must have the same itinerary."_

_The camera returned once more to focus on Sydney, tears forgotten as she excitedly pointed out the markers to Tommy. "Hello, Sissy. It is Sissy, right? Yes, how bizarre that in such a large amusement park we should find ourselves in the same line three times already."  Jack's irony appeared lost on Sissy._

_"Yeah.  It's like it was meant. Maybe it's because we are both from Los Angeles. Oh look. They are letting us in. Tommy, come here."  The little boy gave his mother a rebellious look.  "Don't want to.  Wanna stay with Cindy."  _

_"'Sydney,'" Sissy corrected. "She's going in, too."_

"I remember Tommy, Dad. They stayed at the same hotel as we did." She smiled at Jack.  "Wow, was she hitting on you, or what!"

"I didn't notice."

Sydney laughed. "Oh right.  You expect me to believe that.  Did you sleep with her?" As soon as she said it, she wanted to take the words back.  The teasing question was something she could have easily said to Francie or Will.  She had grown too comfortable with the loving, happy man on the screen.  He was only a little older than Will when the videos were recorded, making him seem a peer instead of her father.

"No," Jack responded flatly.

His answer surprised her, causing her to once again respond before thinking.  "Why not?  You were widowed.  She was divorced. She was hot for you." 

Jack gave her a measured look, eyes slightly hooded.  "My parenting skills may not have been the best, but I like to think I occasionally did the right thing." There was a tension now to his shoulders that she had not seen in a while.  

"I don't understand," she looked at him, bewildered.  "What does one have to do with the other?"

Jack gave a mirthless chuckle. "After my ... sabbatical ... with the FBI, I needed to get away. As far away as I could.  I wanted to give you a treat, too, so I decided on Disney World. You always liked Disneyland. We were nearly broke.  Almost all our savings went to make sure you were cared for while I was ... away.  There were some expenses that were unavoidable; the plane tickets, the park tickets. I economized everywhere I could.  That meant only one hotel room.  I got one that had two double beds."

"I'm still not sure I understand."

Jack looked slightly nonplussed. "I couldn't have sex in my room, you were there.  And I certainly wasn't going to leave you by yourself and go to her room," he finally told her bluntly.  

"Oh." She felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Besides, she wasn't really interested in me.  I was her assignment." 

"C'mon Dad.  Not everyone is a Russian spy.  I think she just liked you." She kept her voice light, teasing.

"No, not Russian.  CIA.  They were ... testing ... me."   The mask was back.  Cold, emotionless. "It was a rather stupid and clumsy attempt, but at least it made me wary of ... future ... involvements." 

She looked at her father, horrified.  Her mother had a lot to answer for, but the CIA had just as much.  "How did you find out?"

"I never told her I was from Los Angeles."


	16. 16

Jack threw back the covers and stumbled to his bathroom.  He splashed the hot water on his face, but it did little to ease the nightmares. There were too many memories to be so easily washed away.  Sydney remembered their trip to Disney with affection and for that he was glad.  His own memories were far more mixed.  Spending time with his daughter after their long separation had been among the happiest times of his life, but the newly borne specter of his traitorous wife had cast a pall over his joy. 

He checked the clock by his bed.  Two-thirty.  Giving the bed a baleful look, he headed for his study.  There had been enough sleepless nights in his past for him to know when not to fight it.  The study had been his place of refuge, his sanctuary against the despair.  That and the bottles of whiskey he downed to dull the ache.

Alcohol had not played an important role in his life with Laura. The occasional social drink and wine with dinner had been the extent of his habit.  It wasn't until after the trip to Disney that he'd discovered its mind numbing benefits.  

"_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me.  Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me." Sydney's childish voice warbled the "Pirates of the Caribbean" refrain as she worked on the Mickey Mouse puzzle he had bought her earlier that day._

_Jack laughed and ruffled his daughters' hair.  "Okay, Sydney, it's time for your bath and then it's off to bed."_

_"No Daddy, pirates don't go to bed.  They get to stay up and play all night."  Sydney looked up at her father and sang again,  "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me." _

_"I'm the head pirate and what I sez goes, matey. Otherwise, it's the plank for you." He gave his best Long John Silver imitation._

_"Oh," she giggled. "You are funny, Daddy."_

_Jack ran the water and let Sydney splash around for a while, then he washed her hair and prepared her for bed.  "I had fun today, Daddy.  I love you." she murmured sleepily.  He watched her doze off into a gentle slumber then made his own nighttime preparations.  There was a knock on the door just as he finished his shower. Reaching for his robe, he opened the door slightly, surprised to see Sissy waiting on the other side.  _

_"I'm sorry to bother you, Jack, but I'm having trouble with the zipper of this dress.  Do you think you could come over for a minute and help me. My son is asleep in the other room and I just didn't want to wake him."_

_He recognized the invitation for what it was and felt momentarily tempted.  Sydney turned restlessly in her sleep, reminding him of his priorities.  "Turn around.  I can unzip it from here."_

_"Shouldn't I at least come in?"  She appeared shocked that he was turning down her offer._

_Jack shook his head no.  "My daughter and I are sharing this room.  I'd rather not have her waking and seeing you in here." He gave her an apologetic smile, enjoying Sissy's discomfiture.  "It won't take me a minute."_

_She glared at him and walked angrily back to her room.  Jack laughed to himself. The CIA obviously thought him an idiot. Of course they did, he thought bitterly.  He had been duped for ten years and even Laura's death had left him none the wiser_

_Angrily, he pulled back the bed sheets and slipped between the covers.  The bed was comfortable but sleep evaded him.  He didn't want to sleep. He hadn't wanted to sleep in months.  There were too many dreams he wanted to avoid.  So, instead, he stared at the blank television screen. Minutes passed into hours when Sydney began to stir restlessly.  He strained to hear her disjointed mutterings._

_"Die.  No, Mommy.  Come back.  Love you.  Daddy. No.  Don't go away, Daddy."  Her thrashing got stronger and he could see she was crying.  He lifted her up from her bed and held her in his arms, singing a soft lullaby to soothe her back to sleep.  When she finally calmed down, he moved to put her back in her bed, but she tightened her arms around him and he didn't have the heart to let go._

_They stayed in Orlando for a week and every night followed the same routine.  He dreaded their return to Los Angeles. It meant the start of his new assignment. He had to pretend to go rogue, to allow himself to be recruited by a newly formed mercenary group. It was a dangerous job and there were no guarantees he'd live out the year.  He watched his daughter as she slept on their flight home and knew what he had to do. She had experienced far too much trauma for one so young and he wouldn't, couldn't let her go through it again.  _

_He went back to work the next day. He hated what he had to do, but felt helpless against his own guilt. Acting on a tip, his handler directed him to a local bar. There he found himself pleasantly drunk and for the first night in forever he slept soundly through the night. He went there again the next night and for consecutive nights after, each night consuming a little more of the amber liquid.  Then he found himself helpless once more, this time against the lure of forgetfulness._

Jack listened as the clock in the hall struck three.  The phone stood silent.  He swallowed his disappointment and poured a healthy shot of White Lightning into a tumbler.  

When he had been a young agent, he often brought his work home, usually spreading his paper over the kitchen table.  Eventually they were able to afford a house with a study and he and Laura spent many hours shopping for the perfect desk.  They found one made of oak, solid and strong, one that would last a lifetime - like him, Laura had said.  He had kept his most sensitive projects locked in the drawers, where they were safe he had thought.  He had learned a valuable lesson long ago.

Now the desk stood almost empty, the only addition was a new state of the art computer.  Safely stored inside were Sydney's old school reports, the birthday and Father's Day cards the nannies had made her write, a drawing she'd made on their return from their Disney trip... and the photograph.  It was the only one of Laura he'd kept. The drawer he stored it in had become well worn.  Nightly he had pulled it from its resting place, offering up a toast to her brilliance. 

Gently he slid the drawer open and pulled out the silver frame.  She was beautiful, as she still was, her face soft with youth.  Her eyes were wide and bright, but it was her smile that drew him in.  There was a promise in the quirk of the lips; an invitation.  It was a look he'd often seen when she wanted to make love. "The photographer told me to think about something special," she had told him when he'd unwrapped the gift. "I bet you can't guess what it was." Then she smiled that same smile and he was lost in her arms.

She'd given him that same look in their hotel room in Panama. He had been just as powerless against it as he'd always been.  Did she look at other men in that way? He took a sip of the whiskey, not wanting his thoughts go in that direction.  Three-thirty.  He sighed and took another swallow, downing the remaining liquid. As he set the glass down, his hand bumped the computer mouse bringing the monitor out of it's slumber.  

A large icon flashed, notifying him of new e-mail.  Probably spam inviting him to enlarge various parts of his body. He clicked on the mail icon and as suspected, his 'secure' e-mail account had three requests;  one for penile enhancement ...at least that was one area he didn't have to be concerned about, he mused wryly … and another was from 'Candi' inviting him to come and watch. He deleted the first two and opened the third.  This one offered him the vacation of a lifetime.  He and his wife would spend two romantic weeks touring the Tuscan countryside, all for the low, low price of $4,700.  Just as he moved the mouse over the delete button, he noticed the name of the company.  ARILY, Unlimited.  The e-mail had arrived in his box at 3 am. Irina. 

He was desperately trying to trust her.  He wanted to trust her, to believe she loved him, to believe what she had written on the back of that photograph. It had taunted him all those years ago.  Always remember I love you, she had written. He hoped now that it had been the truth.

The e-mail was a clue, that much was obvious.  But was it a trap, just like the one that had captured his sister?  He didn't want to believe it, but he had to be prepared.  Twenty years could not be so easily forgotten.

Jack made his way back to his bed.  The buzz from the whiskey finally took hold and he slept.


	17. 17

Sydney watched as her father prepared breakfast. Her normal routine was toast and coffee, but Jack would have none of it, despite Sydney knowing full well that his morning routine usually matched hers. She would have protested more strongly, but he seemed so pleased to cook for her and she didn't have the heart to tell him no.

"I'm not going into the office today, Dad." He cocked an eyebrow, eyes questioning.  "I ... there is something I need to do today.  You'll call me if anything happens?"

"Your mother e-mailed me last night. I printed out a copy of what she sent. We can narrow our search to Tuscany." 

Sydney studied the paper, not sure how to take this revelation. "You don't think she's setting a trap?"

"I can't be sure, of course. We'll take all the appropriate precautions." He said, gravely.  Then, more abruptly, "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Sydney smiled up at him. Watching the videos with her father had already won her one victory. He had opened up to her more over the last few days than he had since the day he rescued her from the SD-6 death squad.  Hearing the endearments brought back memories from her childhood, memories of the loving father who had spoiled her despite her mothers protestations.

"I'm fine, Dad. I just need a break.  Is it okay for me to stay here?  I thought I'd look through some of the stuff in my old closet.  It looks like no one's touched it in ages."

"That's fine..."  The chime for the door rang, interrupting him. "That will be Juanita. My housekeeper." Jack explained at Sydney's enquiring look. "She'll let herself in.  The doorbell thing is just a courtesy ..."

"Ah, Senor Jack, I picked up your dry cleaning.  They found a note in one of the pockets ..."  She stopped abruptly.  "I'm sorry, Senor, I didn't realize you had company."

"I don't think you've met my daughter, Juanita. She'll be spending the day here."

"A pleasure, Miss Bristow." Juanita stared at her with open curiousity, but asked nothing. "Oh, here is the note.  It was in your white suit."

Jack took the envelope and paled slightly.  "Thank-you.  I'll read it later.  I'm sure it's nothing."

"Dad?"

"It's nothing, Sydney," he told her flatly.  He was lying of course, they both knew it.  She started to push, then caught sight of the letters on the outside of the envelope.  ARILY.  The handwriting was her mothers, of course.  Her style was very distinctive and Sydney had studied enough of her mother's lesson notes and papers to recognize it even from a distance.  The word must have some great significance for them.  She had seen the same word on the flier her father had given her earlier.

"Call me, Dad. Okay?" She saw the relief in Jack's eyes when he realized she would not press him for more information.  

"Have a good day, honey. Enjoy your pancakes. I'll see you for dinner?"  At her nod, he headed out not bothering to eat his own breakfast.

............................................................

Her father's study had been off limits to her when she was growing up. He would come home late and spend the evening locked behind its doors. This had given the forbidden room an aura of mystery. She would sneak in when he was away, sit in his chair and pretend he was holding her on his lap like he had before her mother died. The basic decor had not changed very much. A new set of curtains filtered the light from the window and a killer computer occupied the space once belonging to an old electric typewriter.  She opened the drawer to her left and found her mother's picture, hidden as it had always been, under an empty file folder.  

She pulled the disks from her bag and placed the first one back into the computer.  There were three files listed. She clicked on the on labeled _First Interview_. 

_Subject:  Jonathan "Jack" Donahue Bristow_

_Age:  Thirty-one_

_Height:  6'2_

_Race:  Caucasian_

_Gender:  Male_

_Religious Affiliation:  Unknown_

_Background information:  Agent Bristow was recruited in 1967. His background is linguistics, physics, cryptology, game theory, and aeronautics.  Left-handed.  He met "Laura" in 1970 while attending college.  They were married a year later.  He has one child, a daughter, age 6.  Current case load is Project Christmas.  Assigned to the Los Angeles office June 1, 1977._

_Current Duty Status:  Suspension of duty, suspicion of espionage._

_Case Officers:  Ryan Hamilton, FBI; Robert Staunton, CIA_

_BRISTOW - Week One_

_"Agent Bristow, this is Ryan Hamilton of the FBI. We will be conducting the investigation into your wife's espionage activities and your alleged collusion with her."  _

_"Is this some kind of test, Bob?  A bizarre game plan designed by the psych ward to evaluate my ability to handle pressure? If this turns out to be an experiment, I assure you, I will kill the person responsible."  Jack looked his interrogators in the eye, fire burning in his own.  "It's sick and perverted to use the recent death of my wife as a..." His voice cracked.  He swallowed, then said firmly, "My wife was not a spy and neither am I."_

_"For the remainder of your stay here, you will address me as Agent Staunton.  Is that clear?"_

_"For God's sake, Bob.."_

_"Is that clear, Agent Bristow?"_

_Jack looked at his friend, stunned.  He nodded, unable to speak._

_"You can call me Hamilton," the FBI agent smiled reassuringly.  "Staunton, I don't see a need to be quite so formal..."_

_"I have no patience for traitors, especially those who've pretended to be my friend."  Staunton spit out.  _

_"I am not a traitor," Jack repeated resolutely.  _

_"That's what we are trying to prove, Jack.  We are on your side, even if Staunton here is a little gruff.  I have a few questions to ask that may be beneficial in our investigation.  I see that you visited Heidelberg on your honeymoon.  Can you tell me some of the places you toured while there?"_

_Jack looked into the angry eyes of his friend and then focused back on Hamilton.  "The castle, the old bridge, the Witches Tower, the amphitheatre," he replied tersely._

_"Nowhere else?"_

_"Some small shops, an old church."_

_"These shops, do you recall which ones you visited?"_

_Jack looked incredulous.  "That was over ten years ago and frankly, I wasn't paying much attention to the locale.  It was my honeymoon.  I was more interested in the hotel room than the shops!"_

_"The shops?" Hamilton prompted again._

_Jack ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing emotions.  "We went to several gift shops, a couple of antique stores, and a bookstore."_

_"Do you recall the name of any of these places?"_

_"Just the bookstore."_

_"Oh, why the bookstore?" Hamilton questioned him, voice deceptively mild._

_ "You know damn well why."_

_"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me." Hamilton responded smoothly. _

_Jack stared silently at the FBI agent, assessing his next response. "My wife is..." he swallowed.  "My wife was a professor of literature.  She loves ... loved books, especially old ones.  I set up an account with the owner. We gave him a list of books we wanted.  Whenever he acquired any of them he would contact me and we would negotiate a price."_

_"Whose idea was that, Jack, to set up the account?"_

_Jack hesitated, fully understanding the implications of his answer.  "Mine," he said firmly.  _

_"The owner of the store, do remember his name?  
  
_

_"Fritz Lambauer."_

_"I see you had no difficulty remembering his name."_

_"I wrote out the checks, as I am sure you already know." Jack's attitude became perceptively more defiant.  _

_"Whose suggestion was it to go to the bookstore?"_

_"Mine."_

_"And to buy the books?"_

_"Mine."_

_"Alright, Jack.  That's all I have for now.  We'll be calling on you again, soon."_

_"Wait!" Jack jumped from his chair  attempting to stop them, a chain binding Jack's leg against the table held him back.  "My daughter.  I need to talk to her ... to see if she is okay. They told me you would have to grant permission."_

_The two men looked at each other, then silently headed for the door._

_"Please..." Jack eyed them with tense desperation._

_"I'm sorry, Jack. Your current status has you at 'no privileges'.  You've been co-operative, so far, so I'm sure that will change soon."  Hamilton gave his most sympathetic smile. Jack slumped against the table as the two men left him alone in the room.  _

_Staunton turned just before leaving. "If we find you guilty, you won't need to worry about the electric chair, Bristow.  I'll kill you myself." Jack paled as his friends' soft menacing tone found its mark._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Part 2 - Debriefing_

_"I'm not sure the Good Cop/Bad Cop thing is going to work, Bob."_

_"Why not?," Bob questioned bluntly. "It's proved to be an effective interrogation tool."_

_"I read his file.  He's an expert on game theory.  Top five in the nation.  I don't think the traditional tactics are going to work on him."  Hamilton took a slow sip of coffee. _

_Bob paced nervously around the room. "I've gone over everything a dozen times. If you asked me a week ago to list who was the most likely to go rogue in our bureau, Jack would have been at the bottom of the list. Are you sure your intel is correct?  _

_"We have pretty strong evidence against the wife. Nothing solid on him." Hamilton pursed his lips, folding his hands under his chin. "Interesting."_

_Bob's full attention focused on Hamilton, as he slipped into the chair at the table. "You've thought of something that connects Jack to the Russians?"  
  
_

_"No. I was just remembering Bristows' psych evaluation.  It pretty much made the same assessment as you. So, who do you think is the most likely?"_

_"I'm not sure I should tell you."_

_"It's just a mental exercise.  I'm not going out and arresting someone just because you have a hunch."_

_Bob gave Hamilton a thoughtful stare.  "Arvin Sloane."_

_"Really. Any particular reason?" Hamilton swirled the coffee in his cup and took another slow sip._

_"Not that I can put a finger on.  As you said, it's just a hunch.  Look how wrong I was about Jack."_

_"I'm not so sure you are wrong."_

_"Now that is an interesting statement. Your own hunch?"_

_"Somewhat, but based partially on experience.  Bristow lied on a couple of statements. He lied about who was responsible for going to the bookstore and setting up the account."_

_Bob frowned. "Now, how the hell do you know that? The bookstore owner?" _

_"No. Fritz Lambauer is KGB. German intelligence caught him in a sting a couple weeks ago. He had several interesting files hidden in a not so secret safe. That's what put us on to Laura Bristow."_

_"The files told you she set up the meet?"_

_"No, one Gerard Cuvee set up that little operation. Have you ever heard of NLP*?  No? I just went to a seminar. They did an interesting demonstration on how to tell if someone is lying. I knew Bristow was lying because of his eyes. He broke eye contact and focused up to the right. Classic example."    _

_"I'll have to check into that." Bob clasped his hands behind his head and stretched out, body relaxing into the chair. "So you believe he's innocent because he's lying to protect his wife."_

_Hamilton gave him an approving nod. "Excellent deduction.  However, I think it's more than that.  I believe he's lying to preserve her memory.  Which is why I don't think he was in on her deception."_

_"I'm not sure I'm following your line of reasoning."_

_"He thinks she's dead."_

_Bob stared at Hamilton, shocked.  _

_"I know, I should have told you earlier, but I just found out myself. We've intercepted a message that indicates she survived the crash. Arrangements were being made to transport her back to the Soviet Union."_

_"Well, I'll be damned.  So when do we tell Jack?"_

_"We don't." Hamilton's response had an air of unquestioning finality. Bob stared at his FBI counterpart. There was a long silence._

_"If he's innocent..." Bob shook his head.  "You could end up causing irreversible emotional damage."_

_"Whether he's innocent or not, his actions caused vital information to be leaked to the Soviets.  He bears some responsibility here.  Don't worry.  I know what I'm doing."_

_Bob looked down at his hands clenched tightly together as he took in his partner's unsettling statement. "I sure hope so." _

Sydney clicked off the video player and angrily pushed herself back from the desk. The FBI and CIA had known very early that her mother was still alive and withheld that information to better manipulate her father. He had not been emotionally unstable at that point and the knowledge might have made a enough difference in his responses to secure his release. His efforts to protect her mother only made him appear guilty.

The FBI interrogator used an old technique to determine her father had lied. She was familiar with NLP. Neuro-Linguistic Programming was developed in the Seventies as a psychology tool, but easily found its way into much broader fields. The 'eye access cues' had become a very popular method for lie detection because it was easy to teach. Later research, of course, proved that the technique was far too simple for the highly complex brain and results in general were not accurate.

Her father _had_ lied, though. There were other, far more subtle, clues that gave him away. It helped that she already knew some of the cues, had learned them growing up, but most trained interrogators would have easily noticed the flatness of his tone, the slowdown in his breathing, the slight tensing of the muscles.  

The reason for her father's lies was far more interesting. He was desperately trying to protect her mother's name. Ultimately, they would convince him of her mother's guilt. Despite that, though, he continued to preserve the memory of 'Laura' through their daughter. Most of the information she 'knew' about her mother had come from her father.  When she had first suspected her father of working for the KGB he'd only offered evidence to clear himself.  It wasn't until she forced his hand by turning him in as a KGB double agent that he'd revealed her mothers deception.

Sydney reached in the desk for her mother's picture and studied the photograph. Her mother looked so young and happy. There was something about the way she smiled into the camera, as though the photographer caught a single moment of thought. Out of all her mother's old pictures, this was the only one her father had kept. This was the face etched into his memory.  This was the woman he still loved, despite her betrayal. 

She thought of the man on the tapes. Her father had only been imprisoned for a week and already she saw a change.  There was a nervous tension in the set of his shoulders and the movement of his hands. The tight emotional control she was used to was not yet evident, most likely due to the recent loss of her mother and the horrific accusations being leveled against her.  

If Sloane was telling the truth, this was only the beginning of a six month journey.  Her father had eventually made it through.  She only hoped she would be as strong.

***Neuro-Linguistic Programming - **If you are interested in the subject, here is a website to get you started:  resolutely back to the screen and found the next segment.  The clip showed her father sitting uneasily at a table.  The door opened and he tensed, then quickly relaxed into relief.

"_Jane," Jack whispered hoarsely, hugging his sister tightly. "Thank God. I've been so worried about Sydney. They won't let me talk to her. They won't let me call you."  He let her go and ran a shaky hand through his hair.  "Please, wake me up and tell me I'm having a bad dream."_

_Jane clasped her brother's hand in hers, tears spilling unchecked down her cheek. "I wish it was just a dream, Jack. No one is telling me anything, either.  I'm not sure if it's because I'm a reporter or because I'm your sister."  She reached up and brushed at the tears slipping down Jack's face.  _

_"Sydney is fine.  I've told her you are away on a business trip. She understands that.  Your housekeeper, Rosa, said she would keep Sydney with her until I can find a suitable nanny."_

_"Why can't she stay with you?  You are her family, Jane."_

_Jane looked a little uncomfortable.  "Jack... you know what kind of job I have.  I never know when I'll be called to cover a story. Or where.  It's just not practical.  Besides, she knows Rosa better than she knows me."_

_Jack sat back in the chair, rubbing his temples.  "They say Laura was a spy for the KGB and I am suspected of being her accomplice."  He looked up as Jane stood silently against the table.  "Say something, Jane." He shook his head.  "No, scratch that.  You and Laura never got along.  I've never understood why. I just wish you wouldn't hold it against Sydney."_

_"That's not fair, Jack."  _

_"Then why won't you keep her with you?"_

_"I've explained that ...."_

_"It's just an excuse," Jack banged an angry fist on the table.  "A nanny could watch her just as easily from your home as mine."_

_"I know this hasn't been easy for you, Jack, but don't take your anger out on me.  I'm not the one responsible for this."_

_"And I am, I suppose," Jack responded bitterly._

_"No, Jack.  Laura is."_

_"Sits the wind in that quarter?," Jack quoted. "I guess I'm her only ally."_

_"She's dead, Jack. She doesn't need an ally, but you do. I will do everything I can to get you out of here, but you need to co-operate with them, Jack. You've done nothing wrong."_

_"Did they send you in here to get me to co-operate," Jack looked at his sister suspiciously. _

_Jane shook her head sadly. "I can't believe you even had to ask. You're my brother.  I would never do anything to cause you harm."  _

_"I'm sorry, Jane." He gave a short laugh.  "It's easy to get paranoid in here."_

_A sharp buzzer rang.  "I have to go. They told me I could only have a few minutes.  Don't worry, we'll get this mess straightened out soon.  And don't worry about Sydney.  She misses you, of course, but otherwise she's doing fine."_

Vague memories of her 'visit' with Tia Rosa surfaced, as the screen faded to black.  Rosa had been her father's housekeeper until just after she graduated from college. When her father had gone away shortly after her mother's death, she had stayed with Rosa until her aunt hired the first nanny. Tia Rosa had a large, boisterous family and she had been a little frightened around so many people all at the same time. She had adjusted quickly and having other children around provided good company, leaving only the nights for homesickness.  Her aunt had been right about that, at least. Staying with Tia Rosa had distracted her from her loneliness. The nightmares started after she moved back home with the nanny.

Sydney turned her attention back to the monitor. She located the next file and double clicked.  The camera's view angled down on a solitary figure in prison clothes. Jack was standing by the wall, his thumbnail scratching at the paint.  He was humming a tune under his breath and with a start Sydney realized what it was.  She had a momentary flashback of her parents in the hall, gently swaying as her father sang, "I'm in the mood for love".  What had he said?  _"Whenever I go away, whenever I get lonely for you, I sing that song and I feel like you're there next to me." _Her mother had called him a romantic.  

He continued working, nail against paint, humming the tune over and over.  She forwarded the video until he moved away from the wall.  The camera zoomed in and she barely made out the letter 'A'.  Her father seemed pleased with his handiwork, staring at the letter until his dinner arrived.  Sydney set the player to do a skip review and stopped when the tape showed her father asleep on a cot far too small for his large frame.  She watched as he turned restlessly. He called out to Laura in his dreams. Feeling like she was intruding, she stopped the video.  

A gentle knock on the study door distracted her.

"Miss Bristow?" Juanita peeped her head in the door.  "It's noon and I thought you might like some lunch.  I have some soup and sandwiches ready in the kitchen if you're hungry?" 

Sydney smiled at her gratefully.  "Soup and sandwiches sounds great. And please call me Sydney."

-----------------------------------------------------------


	18. 18

Sydney took a bite from her sandwich, using the moment to study her lunch companion.  She figured Juanita to be in her mid to late thirties. Her hands did not have the look of someone who did housework for a living. "How long have you worked for my Dad, Juanita?"

"About five years, I guess.  I took over from my Aunt Rosa." She smiled at Sydney's surprised reaction.

"Tia Rosa..."

"You don't remember me, I guess?" Sydney frowned in concentration, trying to remember the names of and faces of Tia Rosa's family.  "I was a teenager, so that is not surprising." Juanita continued.  "You were so young and sad. I think you cried yourself to sleep every night."

Sydney gave a self-conscious laugh.  "I wouldn't be surprised. I missed my parents. One minute I had a mother and the next she was gone.  Then my father was gone.  I remember being so scared."

"Yes, Tia Rosa told us to be gentle with you." 

"All of you were so good to me.  I hated it when the nanny took over. I just wanted my father to come home."

"It must have been very important for him to be away like that Sydney. Your father is not the kind of man who would easily neglect his responsibilities.  And he loves you very much. I imagine it was just as difficult for him to be away."

Sydney felt the tears gathering and took a deep breath, working to keep her emotions in check. "Yes, you're right, of course.  I'm only beginning to understand just how much." 

........................................................................

Sydney noticed the pictures scrolling across the monitor as she sat back at the desk.  Her father had created his own personal "This is your life, Sydney Bristow" screensaver.  The photos were in chronological order, starting with her baby pictures to her college graduation. Surprisingly, there were several pictures of her and her mother. She let a few more slides scroll by, then inserted the next disc.  

_Jonathan Bristow Weekly Interrogation #8_

"Eight?" She exclaimed aloud. Shuffling through the remaining discs, she discovered that several of the interrogation files were missing.  Reaching for her phone, she dialed the Task Force office and was quickly patched through to Marshall.

"Hey, Sydney!  I have a great chicken soup recipe..."

"Marshall," Sydney interrupted him anxiously.  "I don't want anyone to know I called you.  Especially my Dad, okay?"

"Sure Syd, er Sam.  You must be feeling really bad not to come to work.  I don't remember you ever calling in sick at the other place.  An iron constitution, my Mom calls it. Of course, constitutions aren't really made of iron.  I'm not sure they are made of anything since they aren't really ..."

"Listen, Marshall, I'm not sick," she interrupted him again.  Normally, she enjoyed Marshall's convoluted conversations, but she only had a few hours left before her father's return. "It was just an excuse to watch the videos you made for me." She spoke quickly, stifling Marshall's surprised exclamation.  "Did you get all of the videos?  There seems to be several breaks in the sequence."

"There was a note in the file by an Agent Staunton stating that some of the videos were destroyed.  Only the most pertinent ones were kept.  Sy... er Sam, are you okay?  Watching those videos.  Your, um, ...boss... will kill me if he finds out.  Did you know he has this look that can freeze your bones.  Well not literally freeze them, because, well, you know, looks can't do that, but it sure feels like it and ..."

"I'm fine, Marshall. I won't tell my Dad where I got the videos. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

The screensaver had popped on again, this time pausing on a photograph taken when she was five.  Her mother was seated with her father standing just behind her, his right hand resting comfortably on her mothers' shoulder while her younger self stood to the left of her mother, leaning slightly against her.  They looked like a typical American family, happily smiling into the camera.  Sydney swallowed back threatening tears, remembering the day the picture had been taken. 

_"Sydney, quit fidgeting with your dress. You'll have it all wrinkled before the picture is taken and we want you to look nice for your grandparents Christmas present."_

_"I don't like this dress, Mommy.  I want the other one."_

_"We have already discussed this, young lady. I already said no and that's final."  
  
"Laura, honey..."_

_"She doesn't need the other dress, Jack. There is nothing wrong with this one and she can wear it when we go to your parents' house for Christmas dinner."_

_"Why can't she have both dresses, Laura? It's not like we can't afford it."_

_Laura sighed.  "That is not the point. The other dress was not practical. I told her no and now she's trying to manipulate you. I will not have my daughter become a spoiled brat. And no Jack, don't give me that look. You spoil her enough already."_

_Jack ruffled his daughter's hair. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I tried."_

_"Jack," Laura warned. _

_"Your mother is right, Sydney. The dress you have on is lovely. It makes your eyes sparkle. Now smile pretty for Daddy."_

Sydney moved the mouse and clicked on the file.  Her father was seated in a room similar to the first.  This time, though, they had him strapped down, with several electrical wires running from him to the lie detector on the table next to him.  There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked a lot thinner.  The two agents entered the room, one placing himself next to the lie detector, the other pulling up a chair facing her father.

_"So, Jack, I see you've been busy decorating your wall."_

_Jack focused on Hamilton, but didn't respond._

_"Aril.  Strange word. The dictionary says its some kind of outgrowth in seed fertilization."_

_Jack gave a slight smile, but continued his silence. _

_"Bob, here, seems to think it's some kind of code, like you're trying to give a message to one of your contacts.  Is that what it is Jack?  A code?" Hamilton got up from his chair and started to pace.  "You can't stay silent forever, Jack. You want to speak to your daughter? Co-operate and I will give you ten minutes on the phone with her."_

_"It means nothing." Jack said flatly._

_"Come on, Jack.  It must mean something.  Why else would you take the time to remove the paint from the wall."_

_"It meant something once, but it doesn't anymore."  Hamilton looked over to Staunton who nodded.  _

_"Very well.  Now, let's go back to your trip to the bookstore in Heidelberg. You were sightseeing and your wife found the bookstore ..."_

_"I've already told you.  I found the bookstore," Jack interrupted harshly.  "We've been over this a dozen times.  Your shrinks have been over this.  It was my idea to go to the bookstore.  It was my idea to get her the books."_

_"So you admit that you were in collusion with your wife?"_

_"No. I am not a KGB spy.  My wife was not a KGB spy."  _

_"You don't sound very convinced of the latter, Jack. We have detailed reports on the information Laura sent to Moscow. Project Christmas has been fully compromised. All your analysis on the Viktor Balenko's defection* in 76 was passed on. Fortunately for us you didn't get involved until after he landed the MIG-25 in Tokyo. You were originally assigned to that team, but your daughter was born right about that time and the director was a family kind of guy. He thought the mission would take you away from your family for too long and gave the assignment to Sloane. A fortuitous turn of events, wouldn't you say? A years worth of negotiations saved because a baby was born. I bet your wife's handler was furious with her for having the kid."_

_Jack struggled against the bonds holding him to the chair. When he spoke, an underlying fury punctuated his words. "My wife loved our daughter. She would never have done anything to harm her. How can you be sure someone isn't trying to frame her? Several agents were passed over when I was assigned Project Christmas. Jealousy can cause people to do strange things."_

_"The reports are handwritten drafts.  Your handwritten drafts. The ones you worked on at home. Now let's go over this again.  You and your wife were walking through Heidelberg and she steered you to Lambauer's bookstore.  You had a conversation with Lambauer and he suggested you send your wife the books as a romantic gesture. A remembrance of your honeymoon. Like a fool, you bought his line.  He did it quite easily, too. Isn't that how it happened?"_

_"You said the notes were handwritten?" Jack looked at Harrison in disbelief._

_"Yes, Jack. In your handwriting. The book drop?" he prompted._

_Jack looked at Hamilton for a moment. "I suggested the books as a memento of our honeymoon," he said finally._

_"You are making this look bad for you, Jack. Why not just tell the truth?"_

_"I am telling the truth. Sending my wife the books was my idea. Now, may I speak with my daughter?"_

_Hamilton looked over to Staunton and nodded.  "Very well.  The call will be monitored and recorded, so don't try anything." Hamilton unstrapped one arm and handed the phone to Jack. "We'll be outside while you talk.  Ten minutes, no more."_

_Jack swallowed and picked up the receiver, hand shaking as he dialed his home number._

_"Hello."_

_"This is Jack Bristow.  My daughter ..." his voice cracked slightly and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.  "I'm sorry to be abrupt. You must be the nanny my sister hired.  Look, I don't have very much time."_

_"Certainly, Mr. Bristow. Let me get your daughter for you." _

_"Daddy?"_

_"Hello, sweetheart. I miss you.  Is Aunty Jane taking good care of you?"_

_"I miss you too, Daddy.  When are you coming home?"_

_"I don't know.  I ... they need me here right now.  Soon, I hope. Did you like your Christmas presents_?"

_"Yes. Santa brought me a doll, but I asked him for a puppy. I told him spificly. Daddy, can I have one of your shirts?"  
  
"My shirts? Of course you can, honey. Why do you want one of my shirts?" _

_"Daddy said I could have one of his shirts, Mrs. Wilson. I **told** you it would be okay."_

_"Sydney?"_

_"Yes, Daddy?"_

_"Why do you need one of my shirts?"_

_"I'm going to sleep in it just like Mommy did when you had to go away. That way you can be close to my heart, too." Tears slid down Jack's face as he worked to bring his emotions under control. _

_"Daddy?  Are you still there?"_

_"Yes, sweetheart. I have to go. Be good for the nanny. I love you."_

_"I love you too, Daddy.  Come home soon, please? And bring a puppy."_

_"I'll be home as soon as I can," he promised._

_Agent Staunton pulled the receiver from Jack's hand and placed it back in it's cradle. Jack looked up at him, the intensity of his anger focused directly on his old friend._

_"I don't know how you can sleep at night, Bob. Does it make you feel powerful to use a little girl as a bargaining tool?  She's only six.  Six.  Politics mean nothing to her. She just lost her mother and now she's scared she's going to lose her father, too. When I get cleared of this fiasco, I hope I never lay eyes on you again."_

_"At worst, Agent Bristow, you are a traitor to the US Government," Staunton responded with quiet deliberation. "At best, you blindly aided and abetted a spy for the Soviet Union.  You deserve no consideration." Staunton moved to the door.  "Okay, you can take him back to his cell, now." Staunton turned back. "We can keep you here indefinitely, Bristow. You better hope something turns up or you may never see your daughter again."_

_............................................................................._

_Part 2 - Debriefing_

_"Well, Bob, that was some parting shot.  So you are still insisting on doing the Good Cop/Bad Cop routine?"_

_Staunton stared up at the FBI interrogator.  "No.  I told him a few home truths.  Perhaps we'll get a little more co-operation from him."  He raked his fingers through his hair.  "You let him off too easy on that word.  It has to mean something."_

_"I'm sure it does, but I don't think it's significant to the case. Besides, I don't think he finished writing out all the letters."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"It looks like he started on another letter and then just stopped.  I've had the crypto boys looking at it and they haven't figured it out. They said if he doesn't complete the word, then it will be almost impossible to decipher it."_

_"He's right about the kid." Staunton changed the subject abruptly.  "She probably is terrified. I have a daughter her age. I would kill anyone who tried to keep me away from her."_

_"Don't go soft on me, Staunton. She's our only asset. Without her, we get nothing.  Now, tell me the results of the polygraph."_

_"Inconclusive. As always.  We've trained him too well.  He knows all the counter techniques."_

_"Well, we have made some progress. He wasn't quite as adamant on his wife's innocence this time and the information about the handwritten drafts shook him. We'll let him mull over that this week. _

Sydney stopped the video and took a shaky breath.  Interrogators were trained to be ruthless and to use every weakness to advantage.  Using her as bait was a legitimate tactic, but she found it appalling just the same.  Whatever they thought of her father's loyalties, she had been innocent of any involvement.  She had been emotionally lost and scared and their maneuverings affected her every bit as much as her father.  There had not been many calls from her father during that 'business trip' and she remembered feeling more scared each time he called.  

The screensaver flashed over the monitor, this time showing a photo taken the Christmas following her father's release.  She was sitting near the tree cradling a small puppy she had named Scruffy.  He had come complete with a note from Santa apologizing for being a year late, but it took him that long to find the right puppy.  By that Christmas her father had already been distancing himself from her and yet he had remembered the puppy.  

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at the next picture.  It had always been her favorite.  Her father was asleep in a recliner and she was curled up next to him, asleep in his arms.  Her father was still a puzzle to her, but at least now she was sure of one thing. Whatever his reasons for emotionally pulling away from her, he never stopped loving her.  /url

 __


	19. 19

(Sloane's Villa in Tuscany)

"Ah, Irina, I see you've found my guest. I'd introduce you, but I believe you've already met."  Sloane watched her carefully, gauging her reaction to his 'surprise'.  Irina schooled her features, her gaze impassive as she took in the sight of her sister-in-law bound securely to a metal chair.

"Arvin, Sark has uncovered some new information on that database you need.  I'll stay with the prisoner." Irina told him blandly.  Sloane's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.  "He said it was important."  Sloane hesitated, then nodded.  

"I have a few more questions for the prisoner." He rose to leave, then turned at the door and said with menacing softness. "I'll be back."

"Well, well, well.  If it isn't my brother's [i]beloved[/i] wife." Jane said mockingly. 

"Shut up, Jane."  Irina reached into her pocket for the pen Jack had given her in Panama, surreptitiously turning it to the on position. "Why didn't you listen to me?  If you had left everything alone, Sloane wouldn't have had to take you."

"Is that what you think?" Jane sneered. "Of course he had to take me. I'm a reporter and a damn good one at that. It was too risky to leave me on my own. He had no choice. Are they taping this?"    

"They think they are. This pen will mask our conversation and the camera's images for approximately ten minutes, but Sloane may be back sooner once he realizes I may be responsible for the distorted reception."

"You said my brother knows you're alive. I can't believe he didn't tell me."  
  
"He couldn't. I was in CIA custody."

"He's forgiven you, hasn't he?" Jane shook her head.  "I'll never forgive you. I still have nightmares of Jack's imprisonment. Do you know it took them almost three months to convince him that you were a KGB spy? They worked him over emotionally, filling him with guilt and self-loathing. It took them three months to break him and years for me to help put him back together."     

"I know you won't believe me, but I did love him. I still love him. I believe he still loves me. The night of the accident ... I'd decided to defect.  I was going to tell Jack everything.  Somehow my handler knew.  He threatened me. I ran to my car.  He followed.  You know the rest. The KGB left Jack and Sydney alone after my 'death' because they knew I could be controlled through them." 

"Why should I believe you? You destroyed my brother. You destroyed my mother and my father. I guess now I'm the only Bristow left you haven't destroyed and here I am, locked in cell, at the mercy of your lover."

Without thinking, Irina slapped her sister-in-law across the cheek. "He is [i]_not_[/i] my lover," she hissed, eyes blazing.  "Don't you ever say such a thing again. I teamed up with Sloane because I thought it was the best way to protect Sydney [i]_and_[/i] Jack."

"So, [i]_now_[/i] you want to protect him? Where were you when he needed you twenty-one years ago, Laura? Oh yeah, I forgot. You were dead."

"I was in a KGB prison in India, wishing I was with him. They don't like people who try to defect." Irina responded harshly, turning away from Jane to hide the threatening tears.  

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"You can't. I could show you the scars, but that proves nothing. Who knows when I acquired them? They could even be self-inflicted, for all you know, just in case I ever needed a good cover story."

"I didn't tell him, you know." Irina turned back to Jane, startled at the abrupt change in subject. "About Mom," she added.  "The note you found. I never gave it to the police. I know I was destroying evidence, but ..."

"I didn't understand what she meant, Jane. On the note. I didn't know about your father. Your mother never even hinted that there was a problem.  I didn't understand until much later. After I left. I found myself with a certain amount of time for just thinking."

"How could you not know?  The way he acted around you..."

"I thought it was because I was Jack's wife. His son's wife.  Stupid, I know, but I swear I never knew." She smiled in self-derision. "I was more concerned that Jack would find out who I really was.      Living under the sword of Damocles lends itself to focusing only on those who pose an immediate threat to your existence."

"Why did you give me the note? Why not Jack?" 

"I didn't want Jack to know. I knew you would destroy it and he would never have know.  He loved her so much, it would have devastated him to learn your mother deliberately..."

"I loved her, too." Jane interrupted her angrily. "I've had to live with that knowledge all these years. I couldn't tell Jack. I was tempted to tell the CIA. I'm glad I didn't. They would have convinced Jack he had killed them. But you're the one who found them. Did Mom figure it out and threaten to expose you? How do I know you didn't kill them yourself?"  
  
"That's why I gave you the note. You know your mother's writing better than anyone. If it ever came out, you would know the truth. I may be guilty of many things, but killing your parents is not one of them."

Irina watched as the reporter in Jane processed this information.  "Sloane will be back any moment and I need you to know I've been in touch with Jack. I couldn't give him the exact location, but he has enough to work with for now.  A rescue team has probably already been set up.  If I don't see you again, Jane, good luck."

"Wait, Laura. I have one more thing I need to know.  That word.  What does it mean?"

Irina froze.  "What word?"

"Aril. The FBI questioned me about it." 

"A-R-I-L-Y.  It's not a word." Irina frowned.  "The FBI asked you about it? How did they know ..."   
  
"You know, Agent Hamilton said the word wasn't complete.  So what does it mean and why would Jack scratch it out on his cell wall? Was it a code word?"

Tears pooled in the corner of Irina's eyes.  "Always remember I love you," she whispered.

"What?" Jane looked at Irina, confused.

"That's what it means."

They both looked up at the sound of footsteps in the hallway.  Arvin Sloane entered his eyes focused narrowly on Irina.  "We seem to be having a little trouble with our camera equipment.  Any ideas on why, Irina?"

"I hear there is supposed to be some heavy solar flare activity this week.  You know how that affects sensitive equipment."  

"Amazing coincidence that it didn't start until you entered the room." He stood behind Jane, his hand lightly tracing her neckline.

"Amazing." she responded blandly.  

Sloane's cell phone rang.  As he reached to answer it, Irina slipped her hand into her pocket and clicked the pen into the off position. "Sloane.  Yeah.  When?" He watched as Irina moved to a chair opposite Jane. "The equipment seems to be working now."

"I told you. Solar flare. Of course, you could just have defective equipment."  She smiled up at him.  "I went ahead and questioned Jane while you were gone.  She sent an e-mail to Jack.  He'll be searching for her in Milan.  I think we should lay low for awhile."

"You bitch." Jane picked up on her cue quickly.  "You promised you wouldn't tell him," she said accusingly. "I trusted you."

"Enough."  Sloane's hand came down sharply on Jane's cheek before reaching for his cell phone.  "I want you to transfer the prisoner to the other room now." He turned to face Jane.  "You can rest for now.  We'll be back for more questions later." He touched her cheek where an angry welt had formed.  "Cooperate and I won't hurt you. Otherwise, Jack will be short another close family member." His gaze moved to Irina.  "I need you to verify Sark's information.  Be ready to leave in ten minutes."


	20. 20

Slowly, Sydney removed the disc from the drive and placed the next one in.  Viewing the files all at once had seemed a good idea earlier that morning. Watching them back to back would give her a clear overview.  Or so she thought. She hadn't counted on her own emotional turmoil. She had forgotten that six-year-old Sydney was as equally wrapped up in her father's journey.

The ringing of her cell phone came as a welcome relief to her angst filled morning.

"Sydney?"

"Hey, Dad. Is it time?"

"Not yet."  

Sydney smiled at the succinctness of his answer. Why did getting information out of her father always feel like a game of Twenty Questions?  "Has something happened?"

"Yes. We've got a really good lead on your mother's location."

"So then it is time. I'll be down shortly." 

"Take your time. Kendall wants to go through the appropriate channels."

"How long, then?" Sydney let out an exasperated sigh.

"He estimates approval in about six hours."

"Six hours!" she gasped. "But Dad, they could be long gone by then."

"I know." Jack sighed.  "Kendall's contacting the station chief in Milan to get a head start.  I'll give him that. It is a small breach in protocol."

"Well, at least he's doing that much.  Who is the station chief?  Do you know him?" She felt a twinge of anxiety when her father didn't answer immediately. "Dad?"

"Yes, I know him.  I ... haven't ... seen him in years."

"Well, I'm glad it's someone you know.  Maybe he'll be more helpful than Kendall."

"Perhaps." Abruptly Jack changed the subject.  "Are you okay?"

"Sure, why?"

"You sound ... sad?"

"It's just the cell phone, Dad.  You know like on those commercials.  She says 'Bring home a movie with Meryl Streep" and he thinks she said "Bring home the 40th Fleet."*

"I guess I missed that one."

She laughed.  "Dad, you are probably the only person in the country who hasn't seen that commercial."

"I don't watch tv much."

"Yeah, I should know," she responded more harshly than she intended.

"Sydney, I turned off the tv for your own good.  If you had been watching something mentally stimulating that might have been different, but you insisted on 'Teen Wolf' and 'The Facts of Life'."

"Dad, I was a kid.  All my friends were watching those shows.  Wait a minute.  How did you know what I was watching?  You made me watch 'educational' shows when you were home."

"I've got to go, Sydney.  Kendall is waving frantically for me to, um, review the data we received from Italy. Bye."

Sydney stared at her phone.  All those years of trying to get her father's attention, wanting, needing him to notice her.  If he knew what shows she watched when he was away, he had obviously been paying more attention to her than she realized.  But why hide it from her?  She sighed. More puzzles.

Two interviews and still no real answer to how her father had changed from loving husband and father to the cold and distant man of her youth.  She clicked the button to start the next interrogation.  

.~*~

*_Not an actual Sprint commercial to my knowledge, but I think they did one similar to that.  ___


	21. 21

Sydney rubbed her temples. The silent camera shots of her father locked up in the cell were disconcerting.  He had been afforded very little privacy and apparently very little time away from his confinement area.  She'd already scanned through three weeks of solitary shots, watching her father's mental condition slowly spiral downward. The next file was another interrogation session. _Week fourteen_, according to the label. She took a deep breath and opened the file.

The camera panned the room, stopping briefly to focus on Agent Hamilton's face, then moved once more until it was repositioned with a full view of the room.

_"You've got the video all set, Bob?"_

_"Yeah. I'm still working the kinks out of this remote control.  It's pretty cool. No wires. I can operate from anywhere in the room." Bob nodded to the two syringes and liquid vials set near the table. "What's with all the medical supplies?" _

_"Sodium Pentathol. We're going to try a little 'truth serum'._

_Bob frowned at his partner. "Isn't that a bit dangerous? If you get the wrong dosage…"_

_"Nah, I've used it a few times before. Don't worry about it. The boys in Washington don't think we are working fast enough. I got their 'suggested course of action' notice yesterday."_

_"I can't believe you are allowing this, Ryan. Those psych guys are in an ivory tower. They have no clue on what works in the field. And you and I know that Sodium Pentathol is just about useless for getting at the truth. The best you're going to get is incoherent babbling."_

_"Yeah, I know the risks. Don't worry, there isn't enough in there to cause death."_

_The screen cut off briefly then once more came into focus, this time centering on Jack Bristows' face._

_"So, you colluded with her, Agent Bristow.  Isn't that right?  I've read your case file.  You're a smart man.  Your IQ is practically off the charts.  You had to know what she was doing."_

_"No"_

_"Even someone with half your IQ should have seen through her.  And you want me to believe you didn't know?"_

_"No."_

_"No, what, Agent Bristow?"_

_"I didn't know," he replied tersely _

_"By your own admission, you chose the bookstore.  You set up the drops.  They must have recruited you pretty early on.  What did they offer you, Agent Bristow?  What was so enticing that it would lead you to betray your country? Was it money? Do you have an account hidden away in Switzerland?  Or was it sex?  She was good in bed, wasn't she?  Did they threaten to take her away if you didn't co-operate?"_

_"No."_

_"So what did they offer?"_

_"They didn't offer anything."_

_"So you admit they approached you?"_

_"No, dammit!  No one approached me.  I would never betray my country.  Never," Jack repeated vehemently. _

_"Then you want us to believe she fooled you for ten years, Agent Bristow?  Nobody's that good.  You were her target, her mark. She had to have slipped up somewhere and someone with your brains never saw it?"  Hamilton moved in closer, his face mere inches from Jack's. _

_"I thought she loved me."_

_"You thought she loved you?" Hamilton sneered. "But now you know the truth.  She never loved you.  You were her prey.  The question is, did she recruit you or were you truly that oblivious?  No answer, Agent Bristow?"  _

_Jack closed his eyes and took a hard swallow._

_"Tell us about the bookstore.  You were on your honeymoon. The sex is great. You can't get enough of her. Then your bride confesses she's an agent for the KGB.  You don't know what to do.  You want her. You lust after her. She tells you she's been ordered to leave you, but she won't have to if you help her pass on information.  It's an offer you can't resist."_

_"NO."_

_"You told us you chose the bookstore, Agent Bristow. You told us you set up the book drop, Agent Bristow.  What other conclusion am I left to draw?"_

_"Laura chose the bookstore." Jack admitted._

_"That isn't what you've been telling us, Agent Bristow.  Why should I believe you now?"_

_"Because it's the truth."_

_"You told us you were telling the truth before."_

_"I told you that it was the truth that it was my idea to send the books."_

_"That alone is pretty damning."_

_"Yes, I know.  But it's the truth. I thought I was being romantic," Jack confessed bitterly._

_"Romantic, Agent Bristow?" Hamilton scoffed. "I've read your psych evaluation.  It says you are highly analytical, objective, remote ... detached. There is nothing in there to even remotely suggest romance."_

_Jack looked up at Hamilton, his face now schooled against emotional expression. "How much longer is this going to take?  You boys must not be very good at your job.  I've been here three months. You don't have anything, do you?  If you did, I'd be in front of a judge pleading for my life."_

_"Well, Agent Bristow, that's the beauty of the CIA.  We can hold you here as long as we like.  Employee evaluations.  They are such a killer these days." Hamilton reached over to the tray next to Jack and picked up a syringe._

_Jack frowned up at him.  "What are you doing?"_

_"Oh nothing, Bristow." Hamilton smiled benignly.  "Just a little sedative. I understand you're having a little trouble sleeping.  This should help."  Staunton placed a tourniquet around Jack's upper arm as Hamilton expertly slipped the needle under Jack's skin.  The drug took effect quickly as Jack relaxed back against the chair._

_"Okay, turn off the camera, Bob."_

_"They're off."_

_Hamilton gazed up at the camera.  Frowning, he turned to Staunton. "It looks like they are still running," he said suspiciously._

_"No, it's off. They tech guy says that the light has to stay on for a while to cool off."_

_"How long?"_

_"I don't know" Staunton sighed.  "Look, I am not the tech guy.  I just learned how to use the damn thing today.  It's off.  I followed all the instructions very carefully."_

_"Very well. He's ready for the next part and I don't want there to be a record of this." _

_"That's not protocol."_

_"No, it isn't. I have additional orders and they want this strictly off the record." Hamilton turned to Jack and checked his pulse.  "He's ready. Agent Bristow, do you hear me?"_

_"Yes."_

_"You love your country, don't you."_

_"Love my country, love my wife, love my daughter." Jack murmured incoherently._

_"Yes, well, your wife has caused great damage to your country and your daughter."_

_"Laura?  No, she wouldn't do that."_

_"Yes, Jack. She did.  Many lives were lost because of her.  Many of your friends died because of her.  Your daughter is very sad because of her."_

_"Sydney. Sad."_

_"She's having nightmares.  Because of Laura. If you hadn't married Laura, none of this would have happened. It's your fault, Jack."_

_"My fault."_

_"Yes.  And now you have to make it up to your country.  To your daughter."_

_"My fault?"_

_"Yes, Jack.  You are the reason all those missions failed.  You are the reason all those men died out on the field.  They will never get to see their sons or daughters again.  But you. You get to see Sydney.  You get to see your daughter.  They will never get to kiss their babies goodnight.  No more hugs and kisses. You get to hold your daughter.  That isn't very fair, is it? You owe it to them, Jack." _

_"Owe."_

_"He's drifting out of consciousness, Hamilton. You need to give him a stimulant." _

_"Not just yet." He slapped Jack on the face in an effort to bring him back into focus. "Jack, listen to me very carefu..." Staunton pulled Hamilton away._

_"He's out of it.  You need to stop.  Now." Staunton grabbed a second syringe off the table and shot it into Jack's arm. The shot revived him slightly and Jack began to sing softly. _

_"I'm in the mood for love, simply because you're near me ..." The words dropped off as Jack lost consciousness again._

_Hamilton laughed. "I guess he's been locked up a little too long.  He's singing a song about sex."_

_Staunton looked at Hamilton impassively then strode to the door.  "Guard? You can take Agent Bristow back to his cell, now." He waited until Jack was removed then confronted Hamilton._

_"What was that all about?" Staunton hissed angrily. "You and I both know that Jack Bristow is innocent in his wife's espionage."_

"Sodium Pentathol has much better uses than determining the truth. The big boys have far more important plans for Agent Bristow and it's imperative that we have his unquestioning loyalty." He turned to Staunton. "And yours," Hamilton added with deadly softness.

Sydney paused the video, shocked at what she had just witnessed. Her father had gone through six months of mental torture so they could indoctrinate him for ... for what?  To infiltrate SD-6?  Her mother may have been culpable for many things, but was the CIA any better?

She picked up her mother's photograph and placed it on the desk in front of her. Her mother.  Her father's wife. Laura.  She traced her finger lightly over the frame.  There was no question her father had loved deeply.  Had her mother loved him back with that same intensity? The woman on the family videos acted like someone deeply in love.  She hoped so. Her aunt Jane's life was depending on it.

She moved back against the chair and stretched lightly, her mind reviewing Hamilton's indoctrination.  She took a deep breath then, slowly, evenly; she let it out. _You get to hold your daughter. That isn't very fair, is it?_ The Sodium Pentathol had relaxed her father, allowing the power of suggestion to do what torture could not. Hamilton's efforts were intended to make her father feel guilty enough to be a sacrificial lamb in his next mission.  Had he also driven the first wedge between father and daughter?  Had her Dad pushed her away out of a sense of guilt at being alive when nameless others had died, possibly because of the intel her mother had stolen? 

She glanced back at the screen and studied the features of the two agents. The CIA database would undoubtedly have information on the two men.  She would have to do a little investigation on them when she returned. Staunton had left the video running.  Interesting.  

The next file on the computer was a visit by her aunt to her father. They were in a small room with no windows.  Her father was chained and cuffed, but otherwise able to move freely.

_"They've threatened to take away my parental rights, Jane."_

_"They can't do that, can they?" Jane winced at the clang of the chains as her brother paced._

_"They're from the government.  They can do any damn thing they want. You have to do something.  Adopt her.  I'll sign the papers."_

_"Jack, I've hired a lawyer."_

_"I can't afford a lawyer.  You know that Jane."_

_"He's doing the work pro bono."_

_"You're paying him, aren't you?  I can't let you do that.  This is my mess.  I'm sorry you had to be dragged into it."_

_"Jack, you're my brother.  I should be here for you. The lawyer is a friend of mine.  When I told him how long you've been held without any charges, he couldn't believe it. He wants to help you."_

_"You told him?  Jane, you could get into serious trouble..."_

_"No, I can't.  He's our attorney.  You still have rights, Jack, and these people are withholding them from you." Jane reached for her brothers' hand.  "You believe them now, don't you?  That Laura was a spy?" _

_"Yes. I'm an idiot and a fool.  Three cheers for Jack."_

_"Don't, Jack. She was good.  She fooled everyone, not just you."_

_"She didn't fool you."_

_"Yes, she did, Jack. I may not have liked her, but I would have testified in court that she loved you. Who knows, maybe she really did love you."_

_Jack gave a harsh laugh. "Nice try.  No they are right. I was a fool to believe someone like her could actually love me."  He shuffled to the chair by the table and sat down.  "Tell your friend I want to get this over with.  One way or the other."_

_Jane gasped.  "Jack, I will not have you thinking that way.  You've done nothing wrong." She bent down and kissed her brother on the cheek. "I'm a reporter.  I'm good at digging.  You'll be released, Jack.  You can take my word on that."_

_A knock on the door alerted them that their time was over.  As Jane moved to leave, Jack grabbed her hand. "Don't forget the papers, Jane.  I need to know Sydney will be cared for.  I know it's hard for you, but if you give her chance, you'll love her as much as I do."_

_"Don't be silly, Jack.  You'll be out soon and you can take care of her yourself."_

_"Jane..." She gave her brother another peck on the cheek and left the room._

_A wall phone rang and the guard motioned for Jack to pick it up. _

_"Hello?" Jack said hesitantly._

_"Agent Bristow?  Agent Staunton has arranged for you to talk to your daughter.  You need to hang up this phone and pick up when it rings again."_

_"Thank you." He waited by the phone, eagerly grabbing it on the first ring.  "Sydney?  Is that you, sweetheart?"_

_"Of course it is, Daddy," she answered with six-year-old logic.  "I've been waiting and waiting for you to call me.  Did you get my letter?"_

_"Yes, I did. I'm so proud of you. When I get home ..." Jack's voice cracked. "When I get home, we'll celebrate all those A's, okay?"  _

_"Daddy, you don't sound too good."_

_"I've been sick, sweetheart. That's why I can't come home just yet."_

_"Are you going to die?" Hearing the panic in his daughters' voice, Jack crumpled against the wall._

_"Sydney.."_

_"I don't want you to die, Daddy.  Please come home.  I'll make you better.  I promise."_

_"I can't..."_

_"I'll be extra good," Sydney added anxiously. _

_"I want to come home, sweetheart, more than anything in the world."_

_"I really, really, really, miss you. Please come home, Daddy. You don't have to bring me a puppy."_

_"Sydney ... if anything happens and Daddy can't come home ... Aunty Jane will take care of you."_

_"No, Daddy.  Don't want Aunty Jane. I want you."_

_The guard came in and pointed at his watch. Jack grasped the phone tighter.  "Sydney, I have to go now. They need me to get back to work.  I love you, sweetheart."  Then softly.  "Goodbye, baby."_

_"No, Daddy. Nooooo."_  

The tears that had been threatening Sydney all morning finally fell unchecked down her cheeks. That goodbye had sounded so ... final.   


	22. 22

Irina slid into the comfortable interior of the limousine, only half listening as Sloane gave her his final instructions.

"Irina," Sloane sounded slightly exasperated.  "You aren't listening and I need you to follow my instructions exactly.  Any deviation could have major ramifications. Here, let me have your pen so I can write the code down." 

She handed him the pen and frowned up at him.  "You shouldn't have taken her, Arvin.  That was a very serious mistake, with far greater ramifications than anything I might do."

Sloane's eyes narrowed as he gave her a considering look.  "Why?  Because she's the sister of your beloved husband." 

Irina stared coolly back.  "No. You should know better than to mess with Jack's family, Arvin.  He will do anything to protect them and he doesn't play by the rules.  If you harm her ..."

"Oh, don't worry about Jane Bristow.  She's safe.  At least until you get back with your information.  Then we'll see." He handed back her pen along with the slip containing the computer activation code and slammed the car door shut, then signaled the driver to go.

Irina rested her head back against the leather upholstery and tried to relax the tension in her muscles.  Her conversation with Jane had been enlightening for both of them.  

The KGB had imprisoned her almost immediately upon her return to Russia, so she knew very little of what happened to Jack after her 'death'.  The records at the CIA indicated that two months after she left he had been assigned to a very long mission. The mystery of those six months had always bothered her. She had been tempted to access Jack's file when she helped them shut down the Echelon leak, but that would have been too easy for them to detect.  

Jane said it took three months to break him.  Jack had always been strong. It was one of the things she loved about him. It was amazing that he was so emotionally centered, considering some of the stories he'd told her about his youth. Jack had accepted his father's coldness far better than Jane.  He often joked that, in his father's eyes, the only thing he'd ever done right was marry her. 

Jack's father. She had never understood how anyone could be so unloving toward his own children.    It puzzled her even more after she had given birth to Sydney.  From the moment she knew she was pregnant, she loved her daughter. Jack adored Sydney and never hesitated to show it. Father and daughter had been really close before her 'death'. It had been a shock when she first learned that Jack had distanced himself from his daughter. Knowing Jack would be there for Sydney had been one of the things that helped her through her own ordeal.  

Jack had once said she was his emotional center.  She hadn't fully understood what he meant until his first visit to her 'glass cage'.  Where had her warm and loving husband gone?  

"Thank God for Panama."

"I beg your pardon, Ma'am."  The chauffeur stared at her through the mirror. She frowned back at him.

"Nothing.  I was just thinking about how good it feels to be free." Sloane undoubtedly had the car bugged.  Fortunately her little outburst could be taken many ways.  She leaned her head against the window and thought of Jack.  The weeks before her 'escape', he had become more comfortable with her.  He had started to visit her daily, often inventing 'problems' for her to help him solve.  Sometimes he'd even bring dinner and they would share a table and light conversation about his day.  Once, he'd asked her about her imprisonment in Kashmir.  She hadn't told him everything, because she didn't think he would understand.  

Damn him, she thought.  Why hadn't he told her about his own imprisonment?  It was something they had in common.  But she knew why he hadn't said anything, why he never would have told her. He may have fooled many people with that cold, expressionless mask, but he could not fool her.  The man she had given her heart to was still underneath and she knew him better than anyone on the planet.

_Laura heard the sound of the garage door opening and breathed a sigh of relief.  Jack was home at last. She climbed out of the bed and exchanged Jack's shirt for a slinky black negligee she'd purchased earlier that week.  He tried to slip quietly into their room, but spoiled it when he cursed after tripping over her briefcase.  _

_"It's okay, Jack. I'm awake."_

_"Dammit, Laura, are you trying to kill me.  What was that I tripped over?"_

_"The same thing you trip over every time you try to sneak in our room."_

_"I wasn't sneaking, I was ..."_

_"You were sneaking in, Jack, and I want to know why?" She turned on the light beside her bed and was shocked to see how pale he was. Before he left, he'd assured her the mission was routine, but she knew he was lying.  He made a beeline for the bathroom, but she reached him before he could close the door.  "Take off your shirt, Jack," she ordered._

_"That's the third proposition I've received today," he smiled at her.   _

_She glared back and started unbuttoning his shirt. An examination of his chest quickly revealed the stitches on his shoulder and abdomen.  "Anywhere else?"_

_"My thigh. They're just scratches, honey. The bullets only grazed me."_

_"Jack, you need to stop trying to protect me." He pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss. Laura pulled back, but stayed within the circle of his arms.  "Oh, no you don't. You are not going to distract me so easily this time."_

_"Laura," Jack sighed._

_"No excuses, Jack.  I'm a big girl.  I can handle the truth.  You've got stitches in three spots and bruises in several other locations.  You [b]told[/b] me that it was just a routine drop." She pulled at his shirt. _

_"I didn't want you to worry."_

_"Well, I worry anyway."  She leaned against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart.  "Jack, don't you understand that I need to know? I'm your wife, not your daughter.  I need you to let me in to the other part of your life, too."_

_"Laura..."_

_"No, Jack. I know you just want to protect me. You're always trying to protect those you love. Please promise me you'll tell me the next time you have a dangerous mission?"_

_He kissed her lightly on the forehead, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  "Okay, I promise." He shook his head.  "Women.  I don't think I'll ever understand them."_

_"Jack that's such a sexist remark." _

_"No, sweetheart, it's the truth.  My simple mind cannot comprehend why you would want worry while I'm away."_

_"Perhaps I want to protect **you**?"_

_"I don't understand?"_

_"I could light a candle for you and do a lot of praying." She rubbed her hand gently across one of his wounds. _

_"Since when did you get religious?"_

_"Since you started going on dangerous missions." Her hands reached for his belt, then tugged his zipper down.  Jack kicked off his pants and lifted his wife in his arms, carrying her to their bed._

_"I missed you," Jack murmured as he nuzzled her neck. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."_

_"Speaking of which, Jack, your father called today." _

_"Oh, what did he want?"_

_"He said he had to talk to me about something. That it was important.  I told him I'd stop on my way to work."  _

_"Do you want me to go with you?  I'm off tomorrow."_

_"No, I'm sure it's nothing.  Hmmm.  I'm feeling a little hot right now.  Maybe I should call in sick?"_

_Jack laughed. "It's your half day, right? No, your students need you. I'll take Sydney to the park and she can ride the carousel.  Speaking of hot ..." he lifted the hem of her nightgown, "were you planning on wearing this all night?"_

_"Sydney has school tomorrow. Jack, don't tear my nightgown. It's new."_

_"Hmm. Very pretty.  Help me get it off."_

_"Jack...."_

_"Mmmmft," he mumbled as he nuzzled her breast._

_"Are you planning on wearing your socks all night?"_

_........................................................_

_She groaned at the sound of the alarm.  Reluctantly, she slipped out of Jack's arms and headed for the bathroom.  They had made love most of the night, which meant very little sleep. She glanced balefully at her husband's sleeping form.  At least one of them would be well rested._

_Hot water poured from the taps, releasing the oil from the beads and she sighed as she settled into the scented water.  She relaxed, allowing three weeks of tension and worry to float away.  In the quiet stillness of her bath, she could pretend they were an ordinary couple, a college professor and an airplane parts salesman, leading dull and boring lives.  How she wished it were so._

_"I'll get Sydney up and ready, Laura."  Jack leaned over the tub and gave her a quick kiss.  "Don't fall asleep and drown."_

_"If I do, I hope you feel guilty for keeping me up all night." _

_"Hmmm, I thought you were the one keeping me 'up' all night."_

_She laughed and splashed water at him.  "I hope you plan to put on some clothes before you go visiting your daughter's room. I'm not quite ready to explain the birds and bees to her yet."_

_"I have some socks somewhere."_

_"Jack!"_

_...................................................._

_"Honey, I'm not getting an answer at your parent's house."_

_"Maybe they are outside working in the yard.  Or maybe they're 'working' in the bedroom."_

_"Jack, that is NOT an image I want in my mind."_

_He grinned wickedly. "Well, they must have done it at least once ... "_

_"Done what, Daddy?" Sydney piped up from across the table. _

_"Er, ..."_

_"Yes, Jack, you were saying?"_

_"Sydney, my pet, it's almost time for you to leave for school.  Go brush your teeth and Daddy will take you to your teacher." He smiled as his daughter scampered off, question forgotten._

_"That won't work forever, Jack. You won't always be able to avoid her questions."_

_"Yes, but for now it works. Still no answer?"_

_Laura sighed and hung up the phone. "No. Well, I'll stop by anyway.  If they aren't home I'll head in to work and give you a call from there.  You should be back by then."_

_"Unless Sydney's first grade teacher is really pretty." He leered at her. "I have this thing for teachers."_

_She laughed and gave him a kiss.  "I'm not worried.  After last night, I made sure you wouldn't have any energy left for anyone else."_

_"Mmmm. You've got that right."_

_...................................................................................._

_The drive to her in-laws was not too far out of her way and made a pleasant change from her normal routine.  Their home was in one of the older, more settled communities of Los Angeles, with tree lined streets and brick houses.  When she pulled in the drive, her instincts immediately warned her that something was wrong.  The porch light was on and the morning paper was still in the middle of the yard.  She walked to the front porch and lightly knocked on the door.  When they didn't answer, she turned the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked. As she opened the door, a strong gas odor nearly choked her. Covering her mouth and nose, she raced into the den where she knew they had a gas fireplace.  _

_The Bristows were sitting in their usual spots, he in the recliner, and she in her highbacked wing chair.  Both looked like they had simply fallen asleep, too tired to make it to their bedroom.  A note had fallen from her mother-in-law's hand and on to the floor. Laura grabbed it and stuffed it in her pocket, then quickly opened the windows.  Hands shaking, she picked up the phone and dialed 911. The fire department arrived quickly, but she knew it was too late, had been too late by many hours._

_One of the firemen took her to the paramedics' truck and placed an oxygen mask on her as a precaution. "Ma'am?" she looked up to see a uniformed police officer pulling a chair up next to her. He smiled apologetically.  "I know this is not the best time, but I need to ask a few questions."  She nodded and gave him her name, address, and phone number. "Okay, Mrs. Bristow, why don't we start with you telling me in your own words exactly what happened." _

_She gave him a detailed verbatim, excluding the note in her pocket.  Whatever her mother-in-law had written, she was sure it hadn't been intended for the police. If it turned out to be important, she could always claim that in her shock she had forgotten about it.   _

_"Oh my God, my husband. His parents." Nervously, she ran her hand through her hair.  _

_"Would you like us to call him, ma'am?"_

_"What? Oh. No, I will.  I need to use the phone." _

_Jack handled everything once he got there and encouraged her to go to the school since it was too late to call in a substitute. She waited until the break between classes before pulling out the note. It was addressed to her._

_"Dear Laura,_

_I hate that you will be the one to find us, but I had no other choice. He told me yesterday that he was going to talk to you. I couldn't let him. Jane will understand. I'm so sorry. I wanted to watch Sydney grow up. _

_He won't know what I did. The medication he has to take makes him drowsy. He looks so peaceful in his chair, the first time since ..."_

_She refolded the note and placed it back in her pocket. The horror of the morning washed back over her, making her nauseous.  She worried about Jack, having to handle everything alone, but knew he was right to get her away from the house. Two and half more hours and she could go home. Jack would need her when the police were finished. _

_Somehow, she made it through the day and found him waiting for her in the parking lot, Sydney in tow.  She went into his arms and sobbed quietly against his chest.  He held her tight, his own tears long spent._  

The police labeled their deaths accidental and she never showed the note to Jack. The message was too cryptic for her to decipher and she ended up giving it to Jane. When Jane read it, it was obvious that she did understand.

_"No Laura, I'd rather not. If you don't know, then it's better that way. You haven't told anyone about this, have you?"_

_"No. I'd rather we keep this to ourselves, Jane. The police have ruled their deaths as accidental.  I think we should leave it that way." To her relief, Jane agreed._

_"You don't mind if I keep the note, do you? If you keep it at home, Jack might discover it ..."_

"Ma'am?" The chauffeur interrupted her thoughts.  "We'll be at the airport in ten minutes.  They've tightened up security at all the gates, even for private jets, so you will need whatever ID you are currently using ready for inspection."

The private jet pulled off smoothly from the runway.  Irina looked at her watch.  She had a two hour flight to work out a plan to infiltrate the research offices Sloane had specified as her target.  He had given her a file with the physical layout of the facility and basic information on the type of security used by the company.  It looked pretty straightforward, but she knew it was always better to be prepared with contingencies in advance.  Surprises were not fun in her line of work.  

She pulled out a pen from her pocket and the slip of paper Sloane had handed her just before leaving. Her hands lightly caressed the pen, her last gift from Jack.  His magic pen, he'd called it.  

_She lay up against him, savoring the feel of his skin against hers.  There had been so many nights she had dreamed of him next to her, that she was almost afraid to believe they were together in the same bed, in the same room.  She rested her head against his chest and listened to the beat of his heart.  _

_"Jack, we have to talk."_

_"Mmmpfh," he murmured sleepily._

_"No, I mean it."  She took a deep breath and decided that she would have to be the one to take the first giant steps toward trust.  "While I was shutting down the Echelon leak, I sent a message to Sark to contact Sloane. They are prepared to rescue me in the morning."_

_Jack sat up, dislodging her from his side. "So, that's how you did it. I wondered."  He shook his head.  "I knew I should have put Marshall on reviewing that data. Kendall said his team could handle it."_

_"Jack, I had to do it.  Sydney is in danger and this is the only way I know how to protect her."_

_"Why are you telling me this now, Irina?" Jack looked at her with hooded eyes._

_"Because I need you to trust me.  To trust that what I plan on doing is because I love our daughter and want to keep her safe. I'm telling you this because I love you and I now believe you still love me."  Her heart pounded in her throat as she awaited his response.  _

_She swallowed her disappointment when he didn't respond. Instead, he slipped from the bed and pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket.  "Here, this is for you."_

_"What is it?"_

_He smiled at her. "A pen."_

_"Jack, you know what I mean!"  She laughed softly with him._

_"It's a 'magic pen'.  Marshall designed it."_

_"Oh, what does this 'magic pen' do?"_

_"Well, it writes...," he teased. _

_"Jack!" She gave him a warning look._

_"It blocks out microphone and camera transmissions for up to ten minutes at a time. You have to turn the barrel clockwise to start it and counter clockwise to place it back in normal mode." He demonstrated the process for her. "It will recharge, but you have to expose it to light for about 30 minutes. It also has a tiny transmitter that will send a pulse through any surrounding communications equipment.  All you have to do is click on the top.  The signal will go to a frequency I will have monitored 24 hours at headquarters. I'll be able to track the co-ordinates if it's on for 30 seconds or longer."_

_"That is such a sweet gift, Jack." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek._

_"Irina, be serious."_

_"I am serious." Much as she longed for them, there would be no verbal declarations of love from him that night.  She understood. He loved her, she didn't need the words to know that, but his trust, ...his trust would have to be earned. She looked down at the pen. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start. _

_He brushed her hair away from her face. "There's something else ...," he said, looking a little sheepish._

_She looked at him and knew at once what he wanted to do.  "You want to insert another transmitter," she said matter-of-factly. "Sloane is not stupid.  He'll check to see if I've been marked."_

_"This one won't go into effect right away.  I have it on a two week delay."_

_She considered this, then nodded her acquiescence.  "Where are you going to place it?"_

_"It will have to go under one of your breasts. The mark will be less noticeable." He looked at her hesitantly.  "I'll be really careful, sweetheart."_

_She smiled at the unconscious endearment and raised her arms and clasped them above her head, causing her breasts to lift slightly.  Her reward was his sharp intake of breath.  "Sometime today, Jack."_

_"I'm coming."_

_"Well, I hope not yet." He laughed and gently massaged her breast._

_"Irina, this might pinch a little."_

_She covered his hand with her own, pressing it hard against her skin.  He injected the transmitter, then bent down to kiss the insertion point.  Irina ran her hand through his hair, then lightly raised his chin, allowing her access to his lips.  _

_They stood locked together, his tongue caressing hers, until she pulled them down against the mattress, once more bound by their own dance of love_.

She looked at the slip of paper with the codes Sloane had given her.  He had used her 'magic pen' to write the numbers out. She laughed softly to herself. How ironic that Sloane had been the one to send out the co-ordinates to his command post. If he discovered the transmission and traced the time it was sent, she had the perfect alibi.  Had it been activated long enough to give Jack an accurate location?  If the signal was good, she knew her husband would already be planning and organizing the mission. She did not want to be in Tuscany when he mounted Jane's rescue.  Sydney would be there to watch over her father.  

She placed the pen back in her pocket. Jack would find a way to let her know how long she needed to stay away.  Protecting his family had always come first with him.  She knew it would take more than one night to regain his trust, but their night together in Panama told her she was still his wife and that made her family.

...................................................................................................................................


	23. 23

The ring of the phone startled Sydney from her reverie. She automatically reached for her cell phone and gave a rueful smile as she realized the sound was coming from the more traditional phone located on a table by the window.  

"Hello?"

"Sydney? I was hoping you were still at the house." 

"Dad? Shouldn't you be calling on me on my cell phone?"

"No. I don't want a record of this call.  My home phone has ... ah ... a few special features."

"The Superspy package?"

"Hunh?"

"A joke, Dad."

"Oh. Superspy package," he repeated. "Very clever."

"Okay, so it was lame.  Why don't you want anyone to know about this call?"

"I need you to get a message to your mother."

"Okay.  You want me to call her ..."

"No.  That's too dangerous.  I need you to access another site and send her an e-mail.  You know how to do that, right?"

"Some father's teach their children how to ride a bike, mine wants to know if I can hack into computers."

There was a heavy pause.  "Another joke, right?"

"Yes, Dad. Okay, I'll be serious. Tell me what I need to do."

"Don't write any of this down.  I want it completely untraceable."

"Sure, Dad. Go ahead."

"You'll have to get into the secondary system of my computer.  Do you see the icon labeled Monitor?"

"I clicked on it, but it needs a name and a password."

"The name is ARILY in all caps.  The password is your mother's name. There's a secondary password. It's your birth date ... all numbers.  I have to get back.  Send the e-mail to IrinaD@arily.com.  Tell her in the message you are the seller she spoke to the night before last. You want to arrange a meeting at 10 am on the agreed upon date.  Have the e-mail come from "Magic Pen Antiques".  Do you have all that?"

"Yes, Dad.  I'm a trained superspy, remember?"

"Sydney, this is really important. Your mother's life may depend on that information." He paused.  "Kendall has everything ready to go. We are still awaiting approval from Washington.  Right now, they are in a National Security meeting with the President and it's not expected to end for another 3 hours."  

"Okay, I'll leave here in about an hour."

"It shouldn't take you that long ..."

"No, Dad, I've got a few other things to do before I leave.  Don't worry.  I'll take care of it."

"I have to go. It should all be over soon, sweetheart."

"I hope so.  Bye, Dad."

Sydney turned back to the computer and punched in the password and hit enter.  She frowned at the screen.  "Incorrect password?" she muttered under her breath. She typed 'Irina Derevko' again and received the same response.  A stab of fear hit her.  Her father had said her mother's life depended on that message. She wanted to call him back and ask him if the password was case sensitive, but she knew she couldn't.  

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on what her father had said. He obviously felt he'd given her enough information. _"The password is your mother's name."_ She looked over at her mother's photograph.  "Of course," she groaned.  Reaching once more for the keyboard, she typed in 'Laura Bristow'.  The screen flickered and she typed in the secondary password.  A new window popped up, listing, among other things, some very sophisticated computer hacking programs.  With the quick efficiency of routine, she completed the e-mail and cleared the computer.  

Task completed, she picked up the last disc and placed it in the drive. She watched as the camera focused in on her father. His chair was tilted in a reclining position and he appeared to be sleeping.  Agent Hamilton moved into view, as he placed a hypodermic needle on the table next to the chair.

_"Agent Bristow, do you hear me?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Good.  Laura Bristow did not exist.  She was an illusion created by the KGB."_

_"Laura."_

_"No Agent Bristow.  There is no 'Laura'.  There never was.  She fooled you into believing she was real, but she only pretended to be Laura. She stole secrets from you, Agent Bristow. Those secrets endangered people's lives.  They hurt your friends and co-workers."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I know you are, Agent Bristow.  Now you have to do something to right the wrong.  It's your duty."_

_"My fault."_

_"Yes, it was your fault.  Soon you will be given an assignment.  You will have to go very deep undercover.  You can no longer be Agent Jack Bristow.  You are separate from him.  He no longer exists."  Hamilton jerked back at the sound of the door opening.  _

_"Sorry I'm late.  We had a marathon debriefing on another espionage case." Robert Staunton stepped into the camera's view._

_"I'm just finishing up. The guards should be here any minute to take him back to his cell."   _

_"What's with the needle?" Staunton asked, nodding toward the table.  "I thought the order came down not to use anymore drugs on him?"_

_"Oh, it's just a sedative.  He told me he was having trouble sleeping."_

_Staunton looked at Jack asleep in the chair and nodded.  "Yes, I've been watching the tapes."  He touched Jack lightly on the shoulder.  "Word is that they are going to release him within the week.  The papers are on their way down from Washington."  _

_Hamilton nodded. "So, this is our final meeting.  I confess I've been impressed on how well he's lasted.  A lesser man would have committed suicide by now."_

_"I hear the guards now." He gave Jack a regretful look.  "We were friends once.  I doubt he will ever want to see me again.  I guess my transfer to Chicago is a blessing in disguise."_

_Hamilton raised his eyebrows.  "You are being transferred?  I hadn't heard."_

_"The orders came down yesterday. I heard you were leaving for Quantico?"_

_"Yes, in a few days.  I have one more assignment and then I'm out of here."_

_"Well, I better see to the equipment."_

Sydney watched for as the guards wheeled her father from the room.  When the screen went blank she searched for the next file and clicked on it.  Her Aunt Jane was seated with a man she recognized as Jane's eventual husband.  There were red splotches on her face and she appeared to have been crying.

_"Those bastards. I want to know what they did to my brother."_

_"Jane, everything is going to be okay.  I've got his release papers all signed and ready to go."_

_"That's not good enough.  I want an explanation, Glenn.  My brother is strong.  There is no way he would do something like this."_

_"Six months in solitary confinement can wear down even the strongest of men, Jane.  The fact that your brother lasted this long is actually quite impressive."_

_"Glenn. You don't know my brother.  Something caused him to do this. I know he was down my last few visits, but ..."_

_"Miss Bristow?"  Agent Staunton sat next to Jane.  "I'm sorry about your brother ..."_

_"Sorry?" Jane said incredulously. "My brother nearly dies and all you can say is sorry? How did he get those pills anyway?"_

_"He was having trouble sleeping. At the recommendation of one of my colleagues, the doctor prescribed him sleeping pills. He was watched very closely.  I've seen the tapes.  I don't know how he managed to fool the nurse." He stood.  "They'll be bringing Jack here any moment. The doctor has approved a short visit. He'll need another week for full recovery and then he'll be free to go."_

_Jane nodded.  A knock sounded and they all turned to the door.  "Well, I leave you now."_

_"Jack.  Oh my God."  _

_"Hello, Jane."_

_"Why, Jack?"_

_Jack grimaced.  "Well you never were one to beat around the bush."_

_"No and you were never one to give up so easily."_

_Jack stared silently at his feet.  When he looked up at his sister.  "I thought it was for the best." _

_"That doesn't make any sense.  The best?  For who, Jack?"_

_"For Sydney."_

_Jane stared at her brother dumbfounded.  "For Sydney?  You think your death would be good for Sydney?  What the hell kind of logic is that?"_

_"You weren't there after Laura died." Jane started to comment, but he put a hand out to silence his sister. "No Jane, let me finish. Every night she had nightmares. She wouldn't go near the pool because she was afraid she would die 'like mommy'.  I would have to pick her up at school because they couldn't get her to stop crying."  Jack moved restlessly in the wheelchair.  "I would rock her to sleep, but it still wouldn't matter.  She would wake up screaming, calling for her mother.  She needs a mother.  I tried to get you to take her to live with you, but I knew you wouldn't so long as I was alive."_

_"Jack, you are her father.  She needs you every bit as much as she needed Laura."_

"What kind of father am I to her?" he responded bitterly. "She deserves better. She's better off without me."

Sydney stopped the video, stunned.  The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.  Her father had a very strong protective streak.  She'd seen it throughout the interrogations and in his conversations with Jane.  For the past two years, she'd had to fight him tooth and nail over some of her more dangerous missions.  

All she had wanted in those years of loneliness was just to know her father cared.  Now she knew he had cared too much.

He had been afraid for her, knowing that his next mission might be his last. By distancing himself, he must have thought his death would cause her less anguish than her mothers. She ran her fingers through her hair. Her logical father.  His analysis had obviously not factored in the emotional needs of a little girl desperately in need of security. 

She rubbed her hands against her temples, suddenly weary. Her father's attempted suicide was surprising.  That he'd contemplated it over a period of time was evident in his conversations with Jane, but contemplating was far from taking action. People often think about suicide when they are in difficult situations, but very few ever do anything. What had triggered the actual act?  She let her mind wander over the last interview with Hamilton.  He had obviously given her father a drug that would make him more open to suggestion.  

Mentally, she reviewed his dialogue with Staunton, wondering if the clue was in something they had said. Her instinct told her that the answer was in that final conversation. She played back the last part of the tape. There it was.  Hamilton had mentioned suicide.  One of the last things he said was how he couldn't believe her father hadn't already made an attempt.  Had that small comment been enough? Lack of sleep, combined with the drugs were definitely not conducive to clear thinking. Her father's medical records would undoubtedly provide more insight.

She got up from the chair and glanced at the clock.  Her investigation would have to wait for another day.  As if on cue, her cell phone rang.

"Hi Dad."

"It's time."

"Okay, I'll be there shortly. I'm all finished with what I had to do here."

"Good.  Bring a sweater.  We are flying cargo again and you know how cold it gets."

"Okay, I will.  And ... thanks, Dad."  She smiled as she clicked off the phone. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack braced himself as the military aircraft swiftly rolled down the runway.  The plane lifted off smoothly, then banked sharply to the left before settling into a level flight plan.  He let out a sigh of relief, glad that the waiting was finally over. 

Leaning back against one of the large grey containers lining the cargo hold area, he watched as his daughter joked with Marshall over his flight safety gear.  Occasionally, she would glance his way and he sensed from her look that she wanted to 'talk'. It was the same look Laura had given him when something was on her mind.  He closed his eyes as weariness from the days stress took its toll.  The hum of the planes engines lulled softly at his ears and he felt himself drifting into sleep.

_"Good morning, sunshine." Jack groaned at his wife's cheerful voice waking him from his sleep._

_"What time is it, Laura?" he said without opening his eyes.  _

_"Three"_

_"Please tell me you mean three in the afternoon?"_

_"No, lover. It's our time."  She tickled his nose.  "Wake up, Jack.  I need to talk to you."_

_He opened an eye and groaned again. "Can't we talk a little later?" he grumbled._

_Her eyes narrowed and he knew he was in trouble.  "Jonathan Bristow..."_

_He sat up and pulled her to him on the bed. "Okay, honey. I'm listening."_

_"This is important Jack." She sat on the edge of the bed and traced a finger along the floral pattern of their bedspread._

_"Laura?" he prompted. "What's wrong?"_

_She took a deep breath.  "I'm pregnant." Her hand tightened on his when he didn't respond. "Jack, please say something."_

_"How...?  ... are you sure?"_

_  
She nodded.  "I've taken the test six times. My appointment with the doctor is on Tuesday, but I know I'm just over five weeks.  You told me you were going to be gone for four months on your last mission, so I stopped taking the pill..." _

_"Then I surprised you by getting a free weekend..." He placed a hand on her abdomen. "Are you okay with this, Laura? When we got married, you told me you didn't want children."_

_"Jack, I'm not going to lie to you. When I realized I was pregnant, I wasn't sure what to do. I don't even know if I'd make a very good mother. But this is our child, made with our love..." She took a deep breath as her eyes sought out his.  "What about you, Jack?  You didn't seem that interested in having children, either."_

_He reached his arm around her and pulled her close. "You know what my job is like, Laura.  Having a child would mean the majority of the work would fall on you. I thought it should be your decision."  He pulled her on top of him and kissed her.  "I think you will make a wonderful mother."_

_"Jack, I'm going to..." She rolled off of him and raced to the bathroom. He followed her, gently massaging her back as she leaned over the stool. "I hope this doesn't last long or I might change my mind about having this baby."_

_He laughed and helped her up from the floor. She quickly made her way to the sink to rinse out her mouth.  "I can't believe we're having a baby! My mother will be thrilled." He caught he eyes in the mirror and smiled. "She keeps asking me when we are going to make her a grandmother."_

_"Yes, me too." She touched his face, running her finger lightly across his jaw. "You really are happy about this?" _

_"It's the second most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me."_

_"Oh, and what is the first?"_

_"You."_

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. "Come to bed, Jack."

"Dad, wake up."

Jack jerked awake. 

"Are you okay?  You were dreaming."

"Sydney." He felt his erection against his pants and hoped his daughter hadn't notice.  "Are we there?"

"No, a couple more hours yet."  She gave him that look again.  "Dad, we have to talk."

"Now? Can't it wait?" He shifted slightly, pulling his attaché case into his lap. "I've got ... work to do." 

"I'll wait only if you promise me that you will set aside a whole day just for me when we get back."

He swallowed. "I promise. I guess I owe you that."

She looked at him a moment longer, then handed him a white envelope.  "You dropped this after you fell asleep." She frowned at him.  "You haven't opened it yet. I know it's from Mom. It could be important."  

"What makes you think it's from your mother?" 

"I don't know what those letters mean, Dad, but I know they are important to you and Mom."  

He took in a sharp breath.  "How do you...?"

"I just do, Dad. You were dreaming about her weren't you?"

"Sydney..."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm the only who knows."  She looked at the envelope in his hand. "So, are you going to read it or not?" 

"Very well. I'll read it now."  He paused.  "Privately."

She grinned. "It's a love note, isn't it?"

"Don't you need to see Agent Vaughn or something?"

Laughing, she made her way down to the other end of the cargo hold. He saw Vaughn and Marshall's puzzled looks, but chose to ignore them. Sydney looked back at him and then pointedly at the envelope.  Grimacing, he tore open the flap and pulled out the white paper.

_Jack, _

_Tonight has been my happiest in twenty years.  So many times I've dreamed you were in my arms only to wake and find it an illusion. Even now, watching you sleep, I'm afraid I'm still dreaming. Did you feel my hands touching you? How good your skin feels against mine. Did you hear my whispered words of love? I heard the quickening of your breath.  _

_"When I'm gone from your side, I know you'll start doubting, wondering if I tricked you again. Please trust me to do the right thing for our daughter. When it's over I'll find you, Jack, and then we'll talk. What we shared tonight wasn't just passion, but love. Never doubt that.  ARILY_

_Irina_.

Jack carefully folded the paper and placed it back in the envelope. She knew him well.  He had started doubting her. From the moment Sloane pulled the switch on the vehicles, he wondered if was a pawn in a far more elaborate plan. He had struggled with the decision for hours before getting Sydney to send that e-mail. He could just as easily be alerting Sloane of their arrival, giving him time to escape.  In the end, he knew he would have to send her the warning.  She was his wife and he still loved her.  

............................................................................................

Irina quickly made her way out of the building into the small open square.  A group of American tourists walked past her and she tagged along, hoping it would prove sufficient cover for her exit.  The guide stopped by the courtyard gate and began his instructions for the next phase of the tour.  She sidled her way closer to the street, eyes carefully scanning for any sign of discovery. Just as she moved to walk out, a strong hand grabbed her by the arm.  She turned in surprise, her body quickly reacting to the assault. Her attacker dropped his arm quickly, eyes registering shock. 

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I thought you were my wife." He frowned at her. "We got separated in the church. You're very similar from the back."  He looked back toward the church entryway and his face brightened. "There she is." He started to wave frantically.  "Yoo hoo, honey, I'm over here."

Irina noted the two burly men accompanying the woman out.  She did bear a striking similarity to herself.  The husband continued to call to his wife, drawing attention his way.  Taking advantage of the distraction, she slipped away from the group and walked deliberately down the street. After several direction changes, Irina was confident that she wasn't being followed. 

Another hour of wandering placed her in a familiar part of the city and she made her way to the nearest internet cafe.  The room was packed, mainly with travelers trying to keep touch with family and friends.  She requested a unit that offered privacy and rewarded the attendant for his helpfulness.  Her first order of business was to e-mail Sloane the information, with a duplicate copy forwarded to Jack.  

She punched in the codes to access the account she used for Sloane.  As much as she wanted to delay sending the information, she knew he would have had the building watched and already knew she'd been successful in her mission.  Once the download was complete, she switched to her ARILY account.  The mailbox icon popped on the screen announcing an e-mail.  She stared at the box, her heart in her throat.  Jack.  The message had to be from him.  He was the only one who knew her that e-mail address.  

She swallowed and took a steadying breath.  The email was short and to the point, but it told her everything she needed to know.  Not only had he given her a warning, but he'd also given her the excuse she needed to stall her return to Tuscany.  She felt her eyes glisten with tears and bit at her lip to hold them at bay. A stray tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it away.  She laughed inwardly at her sentimentality and wondered if Jack knew that his simple e-mail was more precious to her than all the gold and silver in the world. 

She switched back to the other account and notified Sloane that she had a lead on a possible Rambaldi artifact.  Business completed, she accessed another website and had it start the necessary computer cleansing on her unit.  Satisfied that no trace of her activities was retrievable, she closed out her session and headed back to the hotel.

...................................

The bright red numerals on the bedside clock blinked and advanced to the next minute.  One fourteen. Irina switched on the light and rolled out of the bed. Picking up the remote for the television set, she curled up on the couch and clicked on the power button. She scrolled through the stations until she found a BBC station carrying the World Chess Championships. A certain guarantee to put her to sleep, she thought.  

Thirty minutes of hushed chatter left her no sleepier than before.  Snapping the off button, she wandered restlessly around the suite.  She looked at the clock again.  Two o'clock.  Reaching for the phone, she called room service.  

By two-thirty and half a bottle of vodka later, she was well and truly drunk.  She was also still wide-awake.

"Damn it, Jack, it's all your fault," she muttered under her breath. Sleep had always eluded her whenever the CIA sent Jack out on a mission. Now he was on his way to Tuscany and she was not.  Her eyes focused on a black and white photograph mounted on the wall across from the couch.  The photographer had captured a young couple dancing in a courtyard.  Irina smiled.  She and Jack had often danced like that.  A memory tugged at her as her eyes focused once more on the photograph. 

_"Mrs. Bristow?" The secretary for the Arts and Literature department stopped her as she headed back to her office.  "You're husband called while you were in class."  Laura raised an eyebrow and the girl quickly added, "he wants you to call him back at work."  _

_She nodded and made her way back to her office.  _

_"Jack? Is anything wrong?" she asked, trying to control her anxiety.  He rarely called her from work._

_"Laura?  Hey, honey.  Don't fix dinner tonight.  I have reservations at your favorite French restaurant."_

_"Chez Paul's!" she asked dumbfounded.  "How did you do that?  You have to know someone to get last minute reservations there."_

_"Chez Paul's? Oh. I meant Chez Mac's!" he teased. _

_"Jack," she warned.  _

_"Yes, it's Chez Paul's. I pulled a few strings. So, are you up for dinner and dancing?"_

_She sighed happily into the phone.  "It sounds wonderful.  When will you be home?"_

_"Six.  Our reservation is for eight."_

_................................................................................_

_"I love you, Jack," she said, resting her head against his chest.  They swayed together as the band played a soft waltz. _

_"You're only saying that because of dinner."_

_She laughed softly and pulled him closer.  "I'm only saying that because I know whatever it is you are going to tell me is going to make me angry. I wanted you to know how much I love you before I kill you."_

_He ran his hand through her hair, brushing it way from her face.  "How did you know?"_

_"I'm your wife, Jack. I know you.  'Mr. Spontaneous' you are not."  He started to protest and she stopped him.  "You are a planner, a thinker.  I love those qualities about you and I don't want you to change.  Now, tell me what's going on."_

_"I have to go out on another assignment."_

_"When?"_

_"Tomorrow morning. Early."_

_She pulled away from him.  "You've only been back a week from your last assignment," she hissed at him.  She walked back to their table and picked up her purse.  He reached for her hand, but she knocked it away. "You've been gone for three months, Jack, and now you're leaving again. It's not right."_

_"I know, sweetheart. I tried to get out of going, but right now I'm the only one who can handle this assignment."_

_"Don't give me that Jonathan Bristow.  Why can't they send Arvin Sloane? Hasn't he been working on this project with you?"_

_"He was supposed to go, but Emily had a miscarriage this morning."_

_"Oh, God." She ran an agitated hand through her hair. "That's awful."  She sighed and took a deep breath. "How long will you be gone this time?"_

_"Four months."_

_"Four months!  That's too long."  She turned away from him. "I hate it when you are away, Jack.  I can't sleep knowing you are out there, your life in danger and there's nothing I can do to protect you."_

_"Laura." His voice was gentle, understanding. She turned back to him. He was holding his hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to pull her into a tight embrace. "I don't like being away from you either."_

_"Let's go home, Jack." _

_They rode back in quiet companionship.  Laura rested her head against his shoulder as he drove.  He slipped his arm behind her and pulled her close.  "Thank God for power steering," Jack said as her maneuvered the car with one hand. _

_She smiled up at him.  "Hmmm.  Power steering. How interesting. Perhaps you could show me how it works?"  She reached a hand down and lightly brushed along his crotch. At his sharp intake of breath, she moved her hand further down, allowing her fingers to gently press along his inner thigh and then between his legs._

_"Laura," he choked out. "Oh God.  Don't.  I'm driving, for pete's sake."  _

_She pulled at his zipper and slipped her hand through the fly of his boxers.  Her fingers tickled the end of his penis and reveled in his groaned response.  "I'm just checking out the 'power steering'. You're the one who brought the subject up."_

_"Five minutes, Laura.  We're only five minutes away.  You're torturing me."_

_"Good. I want to make sure you know exactly what you are missing while you are off playing spy games." _

_He pulled the car in the garage, shifting the gear to park with a little more force than was necessary.  He turned off the engine, and pulled her to him, his mouth eagerly searching out hers. Her hand continued to caress him and he moaned against her lips.  He pulled her hand away from him and continued his kiss.  "We need to go upstairs.  Now!" he demanded urgently._

_They pulled at each other's clothes, undressing as they made their way up the stairs.  Falling on the bed, they came together wildly, each possessing the other until, finally sated, they lay exhausted in each other's arms._

_"Now that's what I call 'power steering'," Laura whispered into his ear. He laughed and tightened his hold on her._

_"I love you, Laura Bristow."_

_........................................................_

_The alarm buzzed and, sleepily, she murmured for Jack to hit the snooze button. The alarm continued to beep, so she put her hand out to nudge him.  She jerked awake when her hand couldn't find him.  Then she remembered._

_Her hand slapped at the alarm, silencing it.  Making her way to the bathroom, she allowed the memory of their early morning goodbye's to wash over her.  She held onto him until the very last moment.  He gave her a final kiss and an 'I love you', and then he was gone.  _

_She turned on the faucet for the tub and dumped a handful of crystals into the bath.  Turning back to the sink, she filled a Dixie cup with water and took one of the birth control pills from the blister pack.  There were two weeks worth of pills left before she'd have to get a refill.  _

_She rubbed her hands against her temple and sighed heavily.  He would be gone for four more months. Four months of sleepless nights. The last three months had been difficult enough as it was. She looked at the pill in her hand and grimaced. She hated taking them, but considered them a necessary evil in her life.  Four months. She looked at the pill again. There wasn't any need for birth control while Jack was away. Making a decision, she placed the pill back in the pack_.

Irina smiled at the memory.  Jack had surprised her almost three months later. He told her they had to wait on some results from their tests and he had begged the director to let him go home.  Apparently, Jack had effectively communicated his desperation and was granted the leave.  In her happiness at having him home, even if it was only for a short time, she forgot about the pills.  She had planned to resume taking them after her next period.  Three weeks later, she went out and bought her first pregnancy test.  

Once she'd gotten over her initial shock, she knew she would keep the baby. Her biggest hurdle had been the KGB, but Russian tradition was on her side and they didn't press her to abort the child.  Jack had been ecstatic and overprotective. Her mother-in-law bought out every baby department within fifty miles of their home.  

She looked at the clock.  Three forty-five. With a sigh, she crawled back into bed.  Her husband and her baby were on their way to confront a very dangerous man.  Jack had sent her the warning so she would stay away. To keep her safe. The place would be swarming with US and Italian agents.  Did she dare go back?  


	24. 24

Sydney watched as her father read over the note.  As usual, his impassive features revealed nothing.  The only indication of any reaction was the tightening of his hand over the paper. She sighed, trying to hold her curiosity in check. He would never tell her what her mother wrote, of that she was sure.  She thought about stealing it off of him later, but decided against it.  If the note was personal, as she had already surmised, reading it would be a betrayal of sorts.

"Hey, Syd, is your Dad okay?" Marshall watched as Jack carefully folded the note and placed it back in his pocket. "He's wearing his 'don't bother me, Marshall' look."

Sydney smiled up at him.  "Yeah, he's fine.  He just has to work some things out."

"I'm glad you are his daughter and not me. Not his daughter … his son.  I can't be his daughter because I'm a guy.  Not that I'm saying you're his son..."

"It's okay, Marshall.  I understand.  My father isn't the easiest person in the world to talk to. Would it help you to be less intimidated if I told you he used to sing "I'm a little teapot" to me when I was little?"

"Jack Bristow?  The Jack Bristow?" He looked at her dumbfounded. "You're teasing me, right?  Because I can't see..."  He shook his head. "No, that is just too surreal." 

"My favorite was "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo". I think he sang it to me every night for a whole year. I was in a major Cinderella stage back then."

"I have to agree with Marshall on that one, Syd." Vaughn sat next to her, placing a stack of papers he retrieved from his briefcase between them. "I just can't see Jack Bristow singing children's songs."

"Well he did." Sydney laughed. "He has a great singing voice."

"If you say so, Syd." Vaughn snorted, not bothering to keep his disbelief from her.  He pointed to the first page of the papers in front of them.  "That's the layout of the villa.  The place is pretty old and probably has a ton of secret tunnels.  If we can take Sloane by surprise, we should be able to get to him before he can make an escape."

"Marshall has sonar gear that should help us locate the secret passageway. The Station Chief in Milan has advised Kendall that the Italian authorities will help with the raid." Jack stated. Sydney jumped when she realized her father was now standing behind her. She looked up at him, wondering how long he'd been standing there.

"He has? He must be pretty good."

"Well, Sloane did blow up one of their banks a couple weeks ago.  The Italians weren't too happy about that." Vaughn pulled another sheet from the pile. "Here is a news article on the explosion. Several people were injured.  Ten fatalities.  They still don't know what he took."

"Dad, do you know the Station Chief?"

"Yes."

"What do you know about him?  Can we rely on him?" She shot her father an exasperated look, daring him to give her another short reply.

"He was one of my teachers when I was at the Academy.  Interrogations 101." Vaughn offered, when Jack didn't reply. "I was one of his guinea pigs," he added, wincing at the memory.

"Yes ... well ... Sydney, I need to go over something with you privately."  Jack interrupted Vaughn.

"Sure, Dad." She gave him a puzzled look.

Jack looked over his shoulder and called back to Marshall and Vaughn. "By the way, I also know all the words to 'Supercalifragilisticexpealidocous", if the need should arise." 

Sydney blushed.  "You heard?"

"Yes."

She shook her head and grinned up at him.  "I think you've traumatized them for life, now."

"I'm happy to see I haven't lost my touch."

"What is it, Dad?" They reached the rear of the plane, well out of anyone's earshot.  

"Did you send that e-mail? The one to your mother?"

"Of course I did.  I thought I told you that already."

"No, I'm sure you didn't."

"What was that all about, Dad? Are you planning on meeting up with Mom?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably.  "No. I ... it was a warning to stay away."

Sydney looked at her father, aghast.  "What if she warns Sloane?  Dad, what were you thinking..."

"Sydney this is none of your business ..."

"Of course it's my business. Dad, Sloane has your sister.  Mom..."

"Your mother is the one who gave us the information on where to find them."  Jack interrupted her sharply. "Sydney, this is just as hard for me as it is for you. Trusting your mother ..." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Perhaps I am a fool, but I have to do this."

"You still love her, don't you?" Sydney asked him softly, her hand reaching for his.

"We're still married, Sydney. She's still my wife."

Sydney's heart stilled.  She looked at her father, unable to hide her shock.

"It's true."  He shook his head ruefully. "I checked."  

"Does Mom know?"

"She's the one who brought it up in the first place."

"She did?" Sydney gave her father a worried look.  "Dad, I hope you are right about trusting her."  Unconsciously, she flipped a strand of hair behind her ear. There was a flicker in her father's eyes.  She frowned up at him, her eyes sending a silent question.

"You remind me of your mother when you do that."

"Do what?" Sydney asked, even more puzzled.

"Your hair. You two are very much alike."

"I'm not sure I want to be like her, Dad."

Jack swallowed. "Sydney ..."

"It's okay, Dad.  I need to work that one out for myself." She squeezed his hand. "You're worried that you did the wrong thing, aren't you?"

"Jack, Sydney.  We're getting ready to descend.  The pilot wants us all strapped in." Vaughn called to them from the front.

She looked at her father, ignoring the interruption. "You're not going to answer me, are you?"

"Sydney, right now I'm just as confused about your mother as you are. Once, I thought I knew her as well as I knew myself. Then I found out I really knew nothing about her at all."  He swallowed. "I only hope that my trust in her hasn't been misplaced ... for all our sakes."


	25. 25

The plane rolled gently to a stop, allowing Marshall to finally loosen his grip on Sydney's hand. Vaughn opened the hatch and peered out onto the concourse. "It looks like we have a welcoming committee."

Sydney peered past Vaughn, her eyes focusing on the small group waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "Three men and one woman. Who do you suppose they are?"

"I only recognize the Station Chief. Well, we better get going." Vaughn slung a backpack over his shoulder and exited the plane.  

Sydney glanced back at her father before heading down the steps.  He was still seated, head bowed in deep concentration of the file in his hand.  "Dad?" He glanced up, startled. "It's time to go."  Jack looked at her and she watched him school his face into it's familiar impassivity.  

"Go on, Sydney. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

She stared at him, puzzled at the shift in his demeanor. "Can I help?"

"No."

"Okay, if your sure...?"

Jack nodded and gestured toward the door.  "I just need to have a word with the pilot. I won't be long," he told her flatly.

She watched as he walked to the front of the cabin.  There was a tension about him that she hadn't noticed earlier. With a small sigh, she headed out the hatch and joined Vaughn. Two of the men from their welcoming committee were busy helping Marshall load the electronic equipment into a nearby van.  The other two were talking quietly with Vaughn.  They turned as she joined the group. 

The woman gave her an assessing stare, weighing and judging with her quick perusal, then turned her attention back to Vaughn.  The man with them watched her carefully as she made her way down the stairs.  His gaze was more guarded.  Obviously, a man used to keeping secrets.  There was something familiar about the way he held himself, something she couldn't quite place.  She was sure she'd never met him before and yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this man.

"Syd, I'd like you to meet Mira Margalio, on loan from Italian Intelligence. And this is the Station Chief, Bob Staunton." 

Sydney's smile froze as he shook her hand. Staunton's expression changed and she knew her father had come up behind her. She wanted to fling herself in front of her father, to somehow act as a shield in an attempt to protect him from further pain.

"Hello, Jack." Staunton said softly.

"Staunton." Jack responded curtly. 

Vaughn and Mira watched the exchange with open curiosity, both easily picking up on the tension between the two men.  

"Everything is loaded and ready to go.  Vaughn, you and Marshall ride with Staunton.  You can catch up on old times."  Jack's tone had become slightly mocking. He placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder.  "My daughter and I will ride in the van."  Vaughn started to protest, but stopped at Jack's glare.

Father and daughter sat quietly as the van sped through the countryside, each caught in their own thoughts. Finally, Sydney reached over, grabbing Jack's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  Jack looked at her, surprised.

"What was that for?"

"You seem a little tense." She looked at him, hoping he would open up and share what he was feeling. 

"I'm just anxious about this operation."

"Dad....?"

He looked at her, an eyebrow cocked inquiringly.

She shook her head. 

The van pulled off of the road and slowly bumped its way along a dirt path.  When the vehicle stopped, Sydney noted that they were in a small clearing.  Several armed men were busy unloading equipment and supplies.  Her father exited the van and made his way to a table displaying a large map. 

"You ready, Syd?"  Vaughn held out a hand to help her out of the van. "Staunton says we should be set to go in about 15 minutes.  Your Dad is in the lead group.  We'll be following behind, leading the second tier."

"I think I should go with my Dad."

"He needs you to lead one of the groups, Syd. You know the players." He waved at the soldiers making final preparations.  "These guys don't."

She pursed her lips. "Well, then maybe I should lead the advance group."

"I wouldn't want to try and fight your father on that one."  He paused, then "Syd?"

"Hmmm?"

"What happened back there at the plane? Don't try to tell me you don't know. I could see it in your eyes."

"It's not for me to tell, Vaughn.  I'm sorry."

"This won't cause a problem with this mission, will it?"

"Not if I kill Staunton first, it won't."

"What?" Vaughn looked at her, startled by her vehemence.

"Sydney?" Jack interrupted, calling her to the map table.

She smiled apologetically at Vaughn and walked over to her father.

"What is it, Dad?" 

"I'm getting ready to leave.  If anything happens ..."

"Dad, nothing is going to happen. Everything is under control."

"I've been doing this a long time, Sydney.  There's always a chance for something to go wrong.  I just wanted you to know that all my legal documents are on file with an attorney.  His name and number are in the address book in the kitchen.  Paul Brown and Company."

"Dad.." Sydney ran an agitated hand through her hair.

"I just needed you to know that."

Impulsively, she reached over and kissed him on the cheek.  "Be careful, okay?"

He nodded, then quickly strode away.  She watched as Bob Staunton approached her father.

"Jack, we need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you, Staunton.  Now or ever." Jack brushed past him without stopping.   

Staunton watched as her father headed out of the clearing.  He turned and saw her glaring at him.  "You know, don't you?"

"Yes," she said tersely.

"How? There is no way Jack would have told you. He's always been very protective of you."

"I can't tell you."

"You've seen the videos.  No don't deny it.  I can see it in your eyes."  He laid a hand on her arm.  She glared at him.  "Look, I'd like to explain..."

"Explain? Explain!" Sydney knocked his hand away angrily. "What you and Hamilton did to my father was despicable. How could you possible explain that?"

"There is a reason why those tapes are on file, Agent Bristow." Staunton told her stiffly. "I understand your anger.  You almost lost your father because of what we did."  He ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair. "Hamilton's orders came from very highly placed officials.  I wasn't aware how high until I took some of the tapes to a review board. The tapes disappeared." He shook his head. "I hid the rest of the tapes.  When they questioned me about them, I acted like someone had stolen them, too. I archived them a few years ago, for safekeeping. How did you find them?"

"I'm sorry, but that is classified information."  She narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course, you could always have _me_ interrogated to find out.  I should warn you, though. I don't break easily."   

"For what it's worth," Staunton offered apologetically. "I'm sorry. I really had no idea what Hamilton was up to."

"Where is Hamilton?"

"He's dead. Some deep cover operation that went bad."

Sydney digested this.  

"Syd," Vaughn called over.  "It's time."

......................................................................

Part 2 of the Mission

...........................................................

Jack surveyed the house from his location at the edge of the property.  The wide open field surrounding the main house would make it difficult to enter covertly while still daylight. He looked to the west and watched the sun rapidly setting over the sea. The house appeared quiet, with very little external activity.  Whatever security measures Sloane had installed were well camouflaged.  He signaled to the three men he'd chosen for the first assault. They moved into position, covering Jack as he worked his way to the back of the villa.  

His eyes searched for the entrance they had selected from the buildings blueprints.  He cursed softly to himself.  Sloane had made some changes to the rear exterior, including the removal of the vulnerable entrance. He scanned the wall for another entryway and located an open window by one of the turrets.  The window opened into a small laundry room.  The sound of the dryer tumbling the clothes helped cover any noise he might have made as he squeezed through the window.  

He'd studied the layout of the house very thoroughly on the flight over and knew that he was near a back staircase that would lead him to the main sleeping rooms of the house.  Quietly, he slipped out of the room and made his way up the stairs. He checked each room thoroughly, opening closets and looking for hidden panels, all to no avail. 

In one of the rooms, an enclosed winding staircase led down into a lower floor room. He took the steps one at time, carefully placing his foot where there would be the most support, lessening the chance for a warning creak.  The room was lined with filled bookcases.  Most of the volumes looked old and were probably original to the house.  He felt along the wall for hidden panels when a small noise caught his attention.

"Hello, old friend."

Jack turned to see Sloane standing by a panel that was slightly ajar.  A gun was trained dead center on his heart. Sloane moved over to the massive executive desk and relaxed into a very old leather chair, his gun never wavering from its target.  

"Where's my sister, you bastard?" Jack opted to go on the offensive.

Sloane smiled. "What? No pleasantries, Jack? You haven't even asked after Emily."

Jack frowned at him. "Emily?"

"She's doing quite well now that her cancer is in remission. Thank you for asking."

"Emily is dead." Jack said flatly.

"Funny thing about dead wives. They have a strange way of coming back to life."  He laughed, enjoying Jack's expression.  "The only difference is that with mine, I planned the whole thing.  Rather clever of me, don't you think?" He laughed again.  "Of course, I will have to credit the lovely Laura for giving me the idea in the first place."

Jack's expression darkened.  He reviewed his options.  A diversion was needed.  His eyes scanned the room for possibilities.

"Hello Arvin." Jack froze as he recognized the voice. 

"Ah, Irina.  I see you are back.  I take it the mission was successful?"

She gave him a considering look. "You could say that," she agreed.  She lifted her gun and pointed at his head. 

Sloane looked from the gun to her face. He smiled.  "Switching loyalties again, Irina? Trying to regain Jack's trust? How many times do you think you can play him for a fool?"  

Irina smiled grimly back. "You never had my loyalty, Sloane.  Jack always has."  She flicked a glance briefly at Jack.  Jack watched numbly as Sloane pulled the trigger.  He felt his body hurl against the wall as the bullet slammed into him.  The sound of another bullet cracked through the air.  

"Jack!" Irina was standing over him as he regained consciousness. "Thank god," she breathed.

"Aren't you going to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?" He looked at her hopefully.

She laughed. "You're wearing a vest."  Her hand slipped under the vest and gently massaged his chest.  "You are going to be sore in a couple hours."

"Irina," he warned. "I don't think that's a good idea right now." 

She gave him a wicked grin and moved her hand lower.  "Hmm.  I think something else is going to be hurting in a few minutes." 

"Irina, you need to go. This place will be surrounded by Italian intelligence soon."

A cough startled them and the both turned to the source of the sound, Irina quickly raising her gun.

"Staunton." Jack tensed.

"He's right, you'll need to leave quickly."

Irina watched the two men, aware of the subtle undercurrents, but not understanding them.  "What about Jack's sister?"

"We'll find her. You should leave."

Irina turned back to Jack and brushed a hand along his forehead.  "ARILY."

Jack looked into her eyes, finally seeing the answer to his deepest longing. "Yes."  He saw immediately she understood his simple response.  "Now, go."

Irina slipped through the open panel, giving Jack one last look before disappearing.  

Jack turned his attention back to Staunton. "Why?" 

"I owe you."

Jack's face hardened.  "You were only doing your job. I was a suspected traitor. How could you possibly 'owe' me?"

"I am sorry, Jack. I had no idea what the FBI was up to." Staunton reached out a hand to help Jack up.  Jack stared at it for a moment, before finally grasping it.

"When you made that suicide atte..."

Jack cut in harshly. "Don't."

Staunton stared at him intently.  "It's what brought me to my senses, Jack. What we were doing to you was wrong. I went back and reviewed the films. Hamilton had been doing some 'extra-curricular' interrogations. I didn't know about them.  The only reason I found out was the camera system I'd set up in the room had some new technology.  The CIA was experimenting with voice activated videotaping.  Most of the sessions were caught on tape."

"Where are these tapes now?" Jack asked harshly.

Staunton shook his head.  "I turned them over to a review board. The disappeared."

"Of course they did. You didn't make copies?"

"No.  I didn't give them all of the tapes, though. I archived them in what I thought was a secure site on the CIA's mainframe."

"And it wasn't? Have they disappeared too?"

"Not that I know of.  Somehow, Sydney located them, though."

"Sydney?" Jack looked at him, horrified.

"I don't know how she found them. It would take a computer genius to unearth those files. Your daughter's good."

Jack shook his head.  Marshall.  Sydney had gotten Marshall to retrieve the files.  He would have to have a conversation with that young man when they got back to headquarters.

"Dad?" 

"Everything is fine, honey." He nodded to the desk.  "Sloane is dead.  We were just getting ready to search for my sister."

"Jack?" Jane walked through the passageway. Then she ran over and threw her arms around her brother.  "Jack! I knew you'd come for me."

"Jane? How'd you get free?"

She looked around at the group that had gathered in the room, then back at her brother.  "I heard something at the door.  When I tried the knob, it was unlocked.  As soon as I was sure the coast was clear, I ran down the hall.  I heard you talking and followed the sound of your voice..." Her eyes widened when she saw Sloane slumped against the desk, a pool of blood staining the papers next to him.

"It's over, Jane. We can go home now."

A scream sounded from the doorway. Sydney turned in time to catch Emily before she hit the floor.  Jack looked at Staunton.

"We'll take care of her, Jack. You need to take care of your family."

He nodded.  "Jane, Glenn is waiting for you back at the consulate. They'll need to debrief you first."

She hugged him.  "You'll go with me?"

"Yes." He turned to his daughter. "Sydney?"  

"I'll go with Emily, Dad. She's going to need a familiar face." She gave Staunton a hard look.

Jack nodded. "I'll call when it's time to leave."  

.......................................................................................

"I'll only be a moment." Sydney told Vaughn as she exited the car. 

She walked up the sidewalk, searching in her purse for the key. Frustrated, she placed the purse on the wooden banister that lined the front porch. Her fingers felt along the bottom and finally felt the cool metal.  She unlocked the door and turned off the alarm.  

Opening the door to her father's study, she quickly moved to the desk. She pushed on the cd drawer of the computer and watched as it slid open. The compartment was empty.  Frowning, she searched the drawers. Nothing. She knew the disks had been there when she left. 

"Are you looking for these?"

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

"I'm cooking dinner for your father."

Sydney's eyes widened.  "Dad's home?"

"Not yet." Irina smiled.  "I'm a surprise."

"I should turn you in..."

"Yes, you probably should.  Your father might get upset, though." Irina moved from the doorway and sat on the edge of the desk.

Sydney snorted.  "Right. You are a wanted criminal by the US Government. He trusted you and you escaped while in his care. He'll be upset all right."

"Trust me, sweetheart."

Sydney let out a loud sigh. "Can I have my discs, please?"

Irina handed them to her daughter. "Have you watched them?"

"What were you doing in Dad's office, Mom?" Sydney asked, ignoring her mother's question. "I don't think he has anything top secret there for you to steal."

"Don't avoid the question, Sydney. Did you watch them?"

"Yes."  

"You're father won't be happy when he finds out."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No, of course not." Irina pursed her lips. "Does this make you hate me more?"

"I..." Sydney took a deep breath.  "Oh god, I can't believe we are standing here in Dad's study _talking_ about this."

Irina smiled sardonically. "Our family won't ever be accused of being ordinary."

Sydney let out a small laugh. "No we can't," she agreed.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"No, I haven't." Sydney stared at her mother.

"You sound just like your father."  

"Dad says I'm like you."  

"Does that make you angry?"

"Mom, stop it. You are beginning to sound like Barnett."

"Barnett?"

"The CIA shrink. Ask Dad. He's a frequent customer."

Irina frowned.  "Voluntarily?"

"What do you think?"

Irina turned away, sharply.  A horn sounded in the background.

"It's Vaughn. He's waiting in the car." She moved to the door, brushing past her mother. Irina grabbed at her hand.

"Why don't you come to dinner tomorrow night? It will be just the three of us."

"You forget. I'm turning you in to the CIA."

"We need to talk. As a family."

"A family?  We haven't been a family since the night you died."

"I know you're angry at me, sweetheart, but I do love you.  I always have."

"And what about Dad?"

"More than you will ever know."

"Then why...?"

"It's far too complicated for easy explanations. Vaughn is waiting for you. He'll come looking soon.  Tomorrow night?  Please?"

Sydney hesitated. Unconsciously, she brushed her hair back from her face. There was another honk of the horn, this time sounding more impatient. She looked at the discs in her hand and then at her mother.  "What time?" she said finally.

Irina let out a relieved breath.  "Seven?"

Sydney nodded.  "That is, of course, if Dad hasn't turned you in first."

Irina laughed happily. "You better go now, before Vaughn decides to come in."

"Um, Mom?" Sydney sniffed the air as she opened the front door. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Spaghetti."

"There's a number by the kitchen phone for a caterer Dad uses. They deliver.  I'm sure you still have time to order. Just use Dad's name. I think he's their number one customer."

Irina gave Sydney a puzzled frown. "Why would I need to order dinner? 

"I can't believe you don't know that Dad hates spaghetti."

"Sydney, I cooked for your father for ten years. He loves my spaghetti. It's his favorite."

..................................................................................

Irina clicked the television off with the remote and looked at her watch.  Seven-thirty.  She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. It had been almost an hour and half since Sydney had left with Agent Vaughn. She wandered around the room, looking for any hint of the eight years she'd spent in the house with Jack.  Other than the desk in Jack's office, all the furniture they had purchased together had been replaced.  Even the pictures on the wall were no longer 'theirs'.  Most of the house looked as though an interior designer had been given free reign.  It was beautiful, she admitted to herself, but very cold and impersonal.  

Finding nothing in the den, she walked over to the stairs, her hand gently caressing the banister. She had stood at the foot of the stairs several times during the day, staring at the open door to the left of the balcony. Their room. Of all the changes in the house, this was the one she least wanted to see. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself up the stairs. 

Their bedroom furniture was their first major purchase as a married couple. A local West Virginia craftsman had specially made it for them. When Jack was assigned to his research outpost near Wheeling, he loved to explore and they would often take small daytrips to neighboring towns and browse the antique marts. 

_"Jack, why don't we just stay home today? You've worked late every night this week and I've missed being with you.  Besides, I think it's going to snow and we don't have chains for the car." _

_"My practical, Laura." He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "I've been cooped up all week in an office doing analysis, sweetheart. I just need to get out in the fresh air." He pulled her closer and nuzzled the nape of neck. "We can go somewhere close by.  I promise not to drive any further than Moundsville, okay?"_

_"Jack..." She saw the weariness edging his eyes. "Okay, but I'm driving."_

_........................................................._

_"It's beautiful here," Jack said as he surveyed the small town. He listened to two men who stood in front of the local hardware store. They were deep in discussion about the current prices for produce and arguing about which crop would net the most income.  Another man joined the two  and the discussion swiftly switched to his son's upcoming wedding._

_Jack took Laura by the hand and they walked down the main street, pausing to browse in the occasional 'antique' store.  They found the woodworkers shop at the end of the main shopping area.  A large glass window proudly displayed  handcrafted rocking horses and wooden trains.  Inside the shop were pieces of hand carved furniture, in various stages of completion.  They watched silently as the craftsman placed the finishing touches on an intricately carved bookcase._

_"Howdy folks. What can I do for ya?"_

_Laura squeezed Jack's hand.  "Your work is magnificent. Do you do larger pieces."_

_"Depends. What are you thinking on?"_

_"We've been thinking about purchasing a new bedroom set."_

_The man nodded.  "Got some samples in the book. It's over yonder on the table."_

_She pulled Jack to the back and looked through the man's photographic catalog. The book was full of unusual pieces.  Halfway through the book, she had selected her furniture. She looked at the prices listed and swallowed. Jack pulled her close. "It's beautiful, honey."_

_"It's a lot of money, Jack. It will make a huge dent in our savings. We're pretty close to having enough for a down payment on our own house."_

_"But it will last us a lifetime. So, we'll just wait a little longer for the house."_

_"Jack Bristow, have I told you lately just how much I love you?"_

_"Hmmm, let me think. Yes, but I'll never tire of hearing you tell me."_

Later that week, she revisited the craftsman and asked him to make some modifications.  She'd used her KGB account to pay for the additional costs, so that Jack wouldn't know about the changes. 

The door to the master bedroom was closed.  Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and walked into a room she hadn't seen in twenty-one years.  She felt for the light switch by the door and the room was flooded with the soft glow from a floor lamp sitting in the far corner of the room. The room had a masculine feel to it, all stark angles, dark colors, and heavy furniture.  

Her cheerful curtains were replaced with a more formal burgundy and cream satin, the bed had a matching coverlet.  Everything was tastefully done, but lacked character.  The room had few personal touches; a framed photograph of Sydney hugging a dog, a paperback book on the nightstand, and the ubiquitous plaster handprint hanging on the wall were the only indication that room belonged to Jack. 

Gone was the intricately carved sleigh bed.  Gone were the matching cherry wood end tables.  Gone were her beautiful dressers.  

She closed the door and walked to Sydney's room.  Her daughter had kept her furniture. The two of them had picked out the set right after she turned five.  Sydney wanted a big girls bed.  Irina traced her hand lightly on the headboard, thankful for this small oasis.  The wall displayed yellowing posters, obvious leftovers from Sydney's teen years.  A small bookcase was the only addition she didn't recognize.  It was beautifully built, the carving style reminiscent of her bedroom set.  There had been a similar piece in the craftsman's workshop and he had demonstrated the secret to the hidden compartment when she'd asked for the modifications on the dresser.  She felt under the top piece and her fingers found the release. When she slid the top forward, the small cavity revealed several diaries.  She picked up the small pink one.  It had been one of Sydney's birthday presents after she turned six. She opened the flap and felt the tears prick at her eyes as she read the inscription.  "Happy Sixth Birthday to my little girl:  This is a place to keep your dreams. Love, Mommy." She placed it back with its companions and closed the top.  

She looked at her watch once more.  Eight pm.  Where was Jack?  She started to go down the stairs when the door to her left caught her eye. The door boasted one of the best pickproof locks on the market and a matching deadbolt. Running quickly down the stairs, she retrieved her handbag and pulled out her picks and began the process of manipulating the tumblers. Focusing on the task, everything clicked into place and she finally opened the door.  The room was dusty from lack of use. Several frames were stacked against one wall and several sealed boxes were scattered about. Leaning against the far wall were the header and footer to the sleigh bed.  The dressers and end tables were pushed up against another wall.  

She ran a finger along the intricate carving on the headboard.  Their initials were intertwined in the center circle, surrounded by carved ivy leaves and flowers.  Her finger ran across the 'L'. She always pretended it was an 'I'.

The set came with two dressers, one long with a mirror and the other taller and more narrow. She pushed the long dresser away from the taller one and opened the bottom drawer.  She tried turning the sconce to the left, but it wouldn't budge.  Turning it to the right proved futile, as well.  She pulled the drawer completely out and peered at the turning mechanism.  Several small screws had been inserted in the wood, holding the rod in place.

"They're still all there, if that's what you are worried about."  Jack stood in the doorway, watching with that stony look she had grown to hate.

.....................................................................................................

Jack opened the door from the garage and was immediately greeted by the smell of something burning.  He moved quickly into the kitchen and turned off the burner under the spaghetti sauce.  Sydney had mentioned she would be stopping by the house to pick up some music cd's she'd left behind.  Had she made dinner for him? He supposed she'd forgotten his distaste for the sauce.  

He started for the den, but a sound drew his attention.  Listening, he realized someone was in the room he kept locked.  Quietly, he eased up the stairs.  Through the open doorway, he caught a glimpse of the intruder.  He watched as she bent to inspect underneath of the dresser, her long chestnut hair trailing along the floor.  Irina.  

"They're still all there, if that's what you are worried about."  

"Jack!  Where have you been?  It's nearly nine o'clock."

Jack ignored the obvious attempt at deflection. "I have a tool kit in the garage," he told her impassively. 

He watched the emotions flit across her face. 

"How long?" she asked quietly.

He didn't pretend to misunderstand.  "He showed me the mechanism when I went to pick it up. The challenge excited him and he was quite proud of his work."

"You've known from the beginning?" she whispered faintly.  "And you never said anything?" 

"I admit I was angry at first. I couldn't believe you would want to hide anything from me." Jack didn't bother concealing his bitterness. "Little did I know that the dresser was merely the tip of the iceberg."

"Did you ever...?"

"Did I look to see what you put in there?  Yes."  He sighed heavily.  "When I saw it was your diaries, I didn't bother looking any more. I didn't understand why you didn't trust me not to read them without your permission, after all, it's not like I didn't know about their existence"

"I wasn't hiding them from you, Jack. I didn't want the KGB to find them. In case they searched the house. You didn't read them?"

"Your journals? Of course not."  He gave a harsh laugh.  "Hindsight is 20/20, though. If I hadn't respected your privacy so much, I'd have found out what a fool I was a lot sooner. I wouldn't have had to go through 20 years of thinking you dead."

She looked at him, her expression hooded. "You wouldn't have found that information in my journals, Jack. I never kept any of that in the house. Except the books. I couldn't do anything about those."

He stared at her silently for a few moments.  "Your spaghetti sauce burned. I'll go down and order something for dinner.  There might be a screwdriver in one of the drawers." He glanced around the room. The furniture had accumulated a lot of dust.  He supposed he should have let his housekeeper clean the room occasionally.  In shutting it away, though, he hoped to shut out the memories.  No, he amended, not the memories, but the pain those memories brought with them. 

"Jack..."

"Not now, Irina. I'll be downstairs when you're ready." 

.............................................

With shaky hands, he poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into the glass. The whiskey felt like an old friend and the familiar numbness settled the frayed edges of his nerves. It was too late to stop the flood of memories and the pain.  

_"Thank you for taking care of my daughter while I was away. Do you have a card, in case I need your services again?"  Jack carried the nanny's suitcases to her car._

_"I left my number by the phone in case you need me to baby-sit again. Sydney told me you have to travel a lot in your job." _

_"Yes, I'm sure I'll be needing your services again."_

_"Oh, I forgot to tell you.  I made your dinner for you. All you have to do is reheat the sauce and boil the spaghetti noodles. Sydney told me it's your favorite meal and I found your wife's recipe in one of her cookbooks."_

_Jack nodded as he helped her into the car.  "I'll be in touch."_

_He walked slowly back into the house that had once held so much happiness for him. Sydney was standing anxiously at the door.  He pulled her up into his arms and carried her to the den.  _

_"Why don't we watch television for a little while, sweetheart."_

_"Cinderella?" She pulled the tape from their tiny collection of videos._

_"Cinderella it is."  He started the video and let his daughter crawl into his lap._

_"Daddy?"_

_Jack cringed.  Sydney never asked simple questions when she used that tone. "Yes, baby?"_

_"How did Cinderella's mommy died?"_

_"Die," he corrected automatically. He realized her young mind was drawing parallels from the cartoon. Cinderella was her favorite fantasy and he didn't want to destroy that innocence. He gently ran a hand through her hair, choosing his words very carefully.  _

_"Sydney, the story never tells us how her mommy died. It's a mystery."_

_"Misty?"_

_Jack laughed.  "Mystery. Something we will never know the answer to."_

_"Oh." Sydney thought for a minute.  "I don't want a stepmother, Daddy. Cinderella's daddy gave her a stepmother and then he died." _

_Jack squeezed his daughter.  "Not all stepmothers' are like that, Sydney. But there's no need to worry about that for a very long time, honey. Daddy isn't ready for you to have a stepmother just yet."_

_"Promise?" _

_Jack looked into her earnest brown eyes and his heart ached.  "Cross my heart."_

_She put her hand to his heart and nodded.  "I'm hungry. Can we have the sketti now?"_

_"I've got to heat it up. Are you going to watch the rest of the movie while I get it ready?"_

_She shook her head no.  "I wanna help."_

_Jack gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and lifted her from the chair.  "Sketti, here we come."_

_Sydney giggled.  "I can say it right. Spa ghet ti.  I like sketti better."_

_"Me, too."_

_After they finished their dinner, Jack prepared Sydney for bed.  The excitement of the day had taken its toll on her and she drifted off after only a few pages into her bedtime story.  Jack tucked the covers around her and returned to the den.  By nine o'clock, he decided he needed to rest, too.  He had avoided their room all day, but now he knew he needed to confront his demons.  _

_The room was exactly like he left it. Almost like he left it, he corrected himself. Before his arrest, he would come to the room for solace, remembering the love he and Laura shared.  Now the room shouted out her betrayal.  He looked at the dresser.  Had the FBI discovered the hidden compartment?  He went over and pulled out the drawer and inspected the rail.  The screws were still just as he'd placed them on the day of her funeral.  _

_A wave of temptation engulfed him.  He had never before felt the need to violate her privacy; but surely her betrayal had made a mockery of his honor? The top drawer still held the screwdriver he'd used that day. He pulled it out and placed the flat part of blade against the screw.  _

_"Daddy, can I have a drink of water?"  Jack looked up at his daughter, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.  He looked at the drawer and sighed.  Putting the drawer back in place, he set the screwdriver back in the top drawer.  _

_"Of course you may." He picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, setting her on the countertop while he pulled a Dixie cup from the dispenser. "That enough?"_

_She nodded and gave a big yawn.  "Bedtime for you, my little one."_

_"Daddy, is the dresser broken?"_

_"No, honey. Daddy was just looking for something."_

_"Oh.  Night, Daddy." _

_"Night, honey."_

_Jack tucked his daughter in and waited until her breathing evened out. He took a hot shower before dressing in his pajamas, then slipped into the bed.  The sheets were cool against his skin and he shivered.  It had been six months since he'd slept in the bed.  His stomach started to churn.  He willed himself to lay still, to keep his mind blank, to not remember.  Her side of the bed mocked him and his stomach tightened even more. Ten minutes.  Fifteen minutes.  He made it to twenty before racing to the bathroom.  _

_He heaved until his body was spent and even still his stomach continued to twist and fight against him.  _

_"Daddy?"  He looked up to see his daughter standing white-faced at the door.  "Are you going to die?"_

_"No, baby." He gave her a shaky smile.  "Daddy just isn't feeling well.  I'll be okay. Go back to bed, sweetie." His heart ached to see the fear in her eyes. "I'm not going to die, Sydney.  I promise.  Now, be a good girl and go to bed. I'll be there in a minute."  _

_He took another Dixie cup out of the dispenser and took small sips of water.  Feeling a little stronger, he walked back into the room.  He gave the bed a baleful look and made his way to the guest room.  _

_"DADDY." Sydney's scream pierced the air and he ran to find her standing at the door of his bedroom. She was crying uncontrollably, her body shaking with the strength of her tears. He lifted her into his arms, whispering words of comfort.  When she quieted down, he took her back to her room._

_"Sydney, I thought I told you to go to bed?"_

_"I got you some pepper bimbo." _

_"Pepper bimbo?" _

_"Mommy always gave it to me when I had an upset tummy."_

_"I see. Did you leave it in the bathroom?"_

_She nodded and tears started again.  "I was scared when you weren't there Daddy. Can I sleep with you tonight?"_

_Jack brushed away her tears and nodded.  "Why don't we both sleep in the guest room tonight?"_

_"Okay, Daddy." She reached out for him and he carried her to the guest bedroom._

_"I'm going to get the Pepto-Bismol from the bathroom, sweetheart, and then I'll be right back, okay?"  She nodded, anxiously watching him as he left the room. "I'll only be a minute, I promise."_

Jack went back to his room and picked up the telephone, dialing a familiar number.  "Hello, Arvin? Yeah, it's me. They let me come home today."  He listened as Arvin called to Emily.  "Listen, I need a favor. I need to move some furniture, but it's too heavy to move by myself.  You will? Thanks. You are a good friend." He started to hang up, when Emily came on the line.  "I'm okay, Emily. You don't have to fix dinner for us. I'm sure I can manage."  He smiled as Emily scolded him for not calling earlier. "If you insist. Tomorrow will be fine. And Em?  No spaghetti, please." 

Arvin helped him move the bedroom furniture the next day while Emily entertained Sydney.  Arvin never questioned him and Jack never offered explanations.  

"Jack..." Irina stood at the door of the den.  "I want you to read my diaries."


	26. 26

_"Jack..." Irina stood at the door of the den.  "I want you to read my diaries."_

Irina placed the books on the table in front of him and walked out of the room. When she made it to the kitchen, her body started to shake and she grabbed the door to steady herself.  There were no earth shattering revelations in her journals, no compelling truths to be uncovered within their pages, save one.  With the occasional exception of Sydney's milestones, most of the entries were written while Jack was away on assignment.  He would undoubtedly tire quickly in his reading.  Most of entries were the longings of a lonely woman missing the husband she so desperately loved.  She'd never intended to keep the journals and had destroyed all the early ones.  The risk of discovery by the KGB had been too great, especially in the beginning, when she knew they would do an occasional sweep of their home. The KGB trusted no one.  She took a deep breath and brought her emotions under control.  Spying the burnt sauce, she busied herself with cleaning out the saucepan.  

"If you scrub any harder, there won't be any pan left to clean."

Irina jumped.  "You shouldn't sneak up on a person like that, Jack.  I almost had a heart attack."

"I didn't sneak," Jack told her dryly. "You were concentrating too hard on that pan."

"I think it's ruined, anyway, Jack."  She put the pan on the counter and moved to the stove. "I don't understand what happened. When I moved the pan to the back burner, I put it on the lowest setting."

"I guess you've forgotten. The one back burner on the stove is marked incorrectly. You put it on high instead."

"Jack, I thought you called the store and they were going to excha…" She stopped, seeing the frozen look return.  Then she remembered.  They purchased the stove through the in store catalog service and it was delivered to their home two weeks before her 'death'. She didn't discover the problem with the back burner until the next weekend.  Jack called the store and they set an exchange date for the following Saturday. 

"It wasn't high on my list of priorities at the time, Irina."

She winced. "I'm sorry, Jack. I wasn't thinking." She placed the pan on the drain board to dry and turned to rest her back against the counter.  "You haven't read a single page of my diaries, have you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"If you really wanted me to read them, you would have shown them to me when we were married."  

"First, let's get one thing straight. We are [I]still[/I] married.  Second, I didn't show them to you then because they are sappy."

"Sappy?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sappy," she said firmly.  "Why don't you read them and see?"  

Jack moved closer to the counter, his eyes locked with hers.  She felt a shiver of anticipation as his hands circled her waist and pulled her to him.  She leaned in for his kiss and was not disappointed when his lips met hers.  Time seemed frozen as his lips explored hers.  He pulled back and she felt a moment of panic. She looked into his eyes and was reassured.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? I wanted you to kiss me." She traced a finger along his jaw.  The rough bristles of hair tickled against her skin.  

"Not for that. For earlier."

"I should be apologizing to you. Breaking in to that room was probably not wise."

He leaned in and kissed her again. "It needed unlocking. I…" The sound of the doorbell interrupted him.  "Our dinner is here." He smiled apologetically and started to pull away. 

She pulled him back, her lips suckling on his lower one. "I just wanted to sample the dessert menu first."

He laughed and moved to deepen the kiss.  The doorbell rang again.  "I better get that or they'll never deliver here again.  Besides, dessert is much better when you can take your time to savor it."

Jack walked to the front door and let the young chef in.  "Hey, Mr. Bristow, you should see what Chef Pierre has for you tonight.  He thought your daughter might like this, …oh…"

"Joe, this is my wife, Irina."

"Hello, ma'am."  Joe said, slightly dazed.  "You're wife?  Wait until I tell Chef! He said you'd never marry again."

"I haven't. It's a long story and not one for tonight."  He led Joe into the kitchen. "So, what special surprise does Pierre have in store for us tonight?"

"It's Duck breasts seared in honeyed nuts and a special sauce.  He thought a 2001 Qupé Chardonnay would be perfect with it"

"Sounds delicious. What's for dessert?" Irina couldn't resist teasing look at Jack and she was rewarded with a small hitch in his breathing. Jack opened the wine and poured out two glasses, handing one to Irina.

"Crème brûlée," he enthused. "My favorite. I love to use the torch."

"Me, too." Irina watched gleefully as Jack spluttered his wine. Joe started to laugh. 

"Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, trying to stifle his laughter. "Why don't you have a seat in the dining room and I'll serve the salad." 

Irina pulled her chair close to Jack's, sitting just to his left.  Pleasant thoughts on ways to 'torture' her husband made her smile serenely.  Jack saw her expression and swallowed hard.  

She let her tongue slide against her upper lip.  Her hand slipped along the side of his leg, rubbing lightly back and forth.

Jack drew in a deep breath.  "Irina…"

"What is it Jack?" she asked innocently.  "Would you like me to pass you the salt?"

"Yes. With both hands."

"Oh, here, Mr. Bristow, let me get that for you."  Joe came in and placed the salads before them.  "Although, you might want to taste it first.  I've already seasoned them and you wouldn't want to ruin it with too much salt."

"That's right, Jack.  Besides, salt is very bad for your blood pressure. You're already a little flushed."

"She's right, Mr. Bristow.  Are you okay?" Joe asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Joe. The salad looks delicious."  Jack gave Irina a pointed look.

She laughed.  "I'll keep an eye on his blood pressure, Joe, don't worry."  She watched as Joe went back into the kitchen.  Giving Jack a mischievous glance, she picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad.  Slowly, she pulled the fork from her mouth.  She repeated the process, each time, bringing the fork out more slowly.  Jack was pretending not to notice, but she could see the tension building in his shoulders.  

Joe returned with a small bowl of soup and removed the salads.  She smiled benignly at him, while her hand moved back to her husband's leg.  Fortunately, only one hand was necessary for eating soup.

As Joe walked back into the kitchen, Jack pulled her hand away.  "Irina, stop it." He hissed, his voice a low whisper.  "If you keep it up, I'll come right here and I'd rather be with you, in you, when that happens."

Before she could respond, Joe returned with the main course and they ate in silence. 

"Joe, this is wonderful.  You are very talented. I can see why Jack always asks for you when he orders."  

Joe blushed and looked at Jack in surprise.  "You do?  I didn't know that. I'm glad you've enjoyed the meal, Mrs. Bristow. Are you ready for the dessert? The crème brûlée will only take a moment." 

"Hmmm.  Yes, I'm ready.  My husband was telling me earlier that he couldn't wait for the dessert."  She patted Jack on the back as he choked on the piece of meat he had just swallowed. "Are you okay, dear?"

"I'm fine, honey.  By all means, Joe, bring on the dessert."

………………………………………..

"Jack, that meal was splendid.  So much better than the spaghetti sauce I had planned." Irina leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  

"Joe is an excellent cook.  I've never been disappointed in anything he's served." The phone rang.  "I better get it.  I've been expecting a call."

"Okay. I'll help Joe get everything packed and put away." 

She walked into the kitchen and Joe looked up in surprise.  "Jack has a private call, so I thought I'd lend you a hand."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bristow."

"Call me Irina.  Mrs. Bristow is too formal."

"Irina. I heard you say that you wanted to make a spaghetti sauce for Mr. Bristow."

"It was always one of Jack's favorites."

"But…," he looked confused.

"But what, Joe?"

"He told me a long time ago, I could fix anything I wanted for him, except the marinara sauce."

"I see." She looked at him thoughtfully.  "Did he say why?"

"No, not really." He gave an apologetic look.  "Sorry, I couldn't be of more help."

"It's okay, Joe.  I guess I'll have to ask him."  She picked up one of his totes.  "In the meantime, let's get this loaded for you."  They carried the totes to the van and Joe prepared to leave.  

"He's still on the phone, Joe.  How does he usually take care of the bill?"

"He has an account.  It's all taken care of."

"And the tip?"  

"He's always been more than generous and he already gave it to me."  He turned the key.  "It was a pleasure meeting you, Irina.  Goodnight."

"I'm sure it will be," she said softly as he pulled out of the drive. She walked slowly back into the house and headed into the den.  Her diaries were still on the table where she left them.  She picked one up while she waited.  

"Jack picked up our new bedroom set yesterday.  It's so beautiful.  When I described it to one of the other teachers at school, they warned me that the cherry wood might be too dark. Our room gets so much light, though, that it's absolutely perfect.  I could tell Jack loves it as much as I do. We decided to christen it last night.  Jack opened a bottle of champagne and declared  it "The Sled Bed". Some people might think that's corny, but I loved it. I guess we both had a little too much to drink.  We made love for most of the night and Jack looked pretty tired when he left this morning.  My poor husband.  I'm glad I don't have to work today. 

_I had the carpenter put in a false top on the dresser and that's where I plan to store you, my keeper of dreams.  The design is so clever; no one would ever guess your hiding place.  I finally feel free to write my deepest thoughts. Will you get bored, my little book, when all my dreams center on Jack?"_

"Irina?"  She looked up at him, startled.  

"I didn't hear you come back in, Jack."

"No, I guess not." He took the diary out of her hand and placed it back on the table.  "Must be fascinating reading for you to be that engrossed."

She leaned into him and lightly kissed his lips.  "It was.  I was reading about the night we christened our bed."

He groaned.  "The Sled Bed". I still can't believe you liked that."

"It was perfect, Jack." She ran her fingers through his hair.  "I wish you would let your hair grow a little longer.  I love your curls."  

His hands slipped between them and he started unbuttoning her blouse. "I'm glad you've kept your hair long.  I love your hair.  I love the way you tuck it back behind your ear. Sydney picked that up from you."  He discarded her shirt, kissing her shoulders as his hands reached behind her and unhooked the bra.  

Irina shrugged out of the bra and moved her hands to his belt. Once the buckle was released, she went to work on his pants. Jack's hands busied themselves with the snap of her jeans. She removed his shirt. Finally, clothes shed; they stood naked before each other.  Irina placed her hand on his chest as she lightly traced the hairs down to his belly, only stopping when she reached his pelvis. Her hand slipped underneath his penis and she gently massaged his balls. Her other hand went to his buttock and she pulled him closer to her.  He felt hard against her softness.  

Jack palmed her breasts, his thumbs lightly stroking their tips.  He kissed her neck, then her shoulders.  She moaned as one hand slid between them and found the mound between her legs.  She was ready for him.  More than ready.  There had been too many lonely nights and Panama seemed too distant a memory.  

"Jack, make love to me.  Please."

"Your wish is my command."  He laid her on the couch, his body covering hers.  Eagerly, she guided him inside.  They moved together, in and out, in and out.  His mouth found hers. He kissed, his tongue moving in unison with his body, in and out, in and out.  He picked up the pace as her body urged him on. She gasped as her body shuddered in climax and Jack quickly found his own release.  They lay together, bodies still joined.  Jack started to move away, but she pulled him closer. 

"No, Jack.  I want to feel you in me for a little while longer."

"I'm too heavy for you."  She allowed him to turn them so that she lay on top. His breathing evened out and she knew he'd fallen asleep.  She put her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, before she, too drifted off into sleep.

Sometime later, Jack shifted under her and she woke.  He stared up at her, a happy smile curving his lips.  She loved that smile.  "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Irina, I have a nice bed upstairs."

"Mmm.  Yes, I saw it earlier.  It's very…masculine."

"It's also very comfortable."

"Really? I'm pretty comfortable right now." She moved slightly and felt his body respond.  "In fact, I'm very comfortable right now."

Jack laughed. "I can tell." He pulled away from her and sat up.  "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Very well, Jack, we'll go upstairs, but on one condition."

He looked at her warily.  "What would that be?"

"You have to read one of the entries in one of my journals."


	27. 27

Jack sat motionless.  Irina felt a weight press down on her chest.  The air in the room was still and heavy. Irina realized that her teasing request had instead become a gauntlet between them. Her hand groped for his in an effort to reconnect.  

"Jack?"  She curled her fingers tightly over his.  "If you don't want to read them, I won't force you.  But there is one thing I need to know."  She swallowed and took a deep breath.  "Why don't you want to read them?"

He looked at her, eyes empty.  

"Jack, please, I need to know what's wrong.  You need to help me understand."

He squeezed her hand and attempted a smile.  "Irina, since you've come back into my life, everything I thought knew, everything I believed was true for the past twenty years has been turned upside down."

He shifted back against the couch, drawing her into the circle of his arms.  His breath was light and warm on her neck.  "The last time I felt this way was when I lost you.  Ten years of memories…" he swallowed.  "Every memory, everything I thought we had together..."

"Jack, what we had together was true."  

"Those first six months, locked away, alone with my memories, they were the hardest. I didn't believe them at first. They were lying. You couldn't be a spy.  I didn't want to believe them.  There were no secrets between us.  And then…I knew the truth.  Everything I ever felt, every moment we ever shared was touched by that lie." 

Mutely, she turned to him, soft tears streaking her cheeks.  

"I wanted to believe you loved me and then, cold reality would sink in."

"Jack." She touched his lips, her finger lightly caressing. 

"I know, honey. I know." His arms tightened around her. "You were in an impossible situation.  Choices aren't always black and white and love sometimes hurts." He kissed her gently, then, a soft caress of his lips against hers. "I don't want to read your diaries because I don't want to feel that kind of pain.  Not tonight."

"You will read them, though?" She saw his hesitation. "The diaries hold the truth, Jack.  Our truth."

He nodded. "Tomorrow. Now, let's go to bed.  My bed."

……………………………………………….

_Hello little book. You guessed it. Jack is away again.  He left this morning and already the bed feels too cold beside me. He told me his mission wasn't dangerous, but I knew he was lying.  I can hear it in his voice.  He won't say where he is going, and finding out is too dangerous.  Dangerous for him, for us._

_My students hate it when he goes away, too.  When I handed out homework assignments, Jenny Marest asked when my husband was coming home.  I was so shocked, I asked her how she knew.  The whole class laughed.  Then she pointed at the homework assignment.  I suppose it was a little much to ask them to read [b]War and Peace[/b] AND [b]My Antonia[/b] over the weekend.  _

_Tonight's shirt?  Well, I'm wearing the black one I gave him for his birthday. It's one of his favorites. I love him in black. He's too sexy for words. And he's so unaware of it. _

_……………._

_I'm so lonely, little book.  Jack has been away for two months.  No phone calls, no mail. I hate the CIA.  The smell of him is beginning to fade from his pillow.  I have grown quite pathetic; I'll have you know. Last night, I poured some of his cologne on a washcloth and slept with it next to my pillow.  I had dinner with Jack's parents. Jack's mom is anxious about him, too. I could tell she was worried because she only mentioned grandchildren once.  _

……………..

_Jack surprised me Friday.  Somehow, he convinced the Grand Poobahs to give him a weekend pass.  We spent almost every minute in bed.  Mostly we were making love, but sometimes, we just held each other close.  It was all I could do to let him go away again.  His pillow smells like him again.  Five more weeks.  Eight hundred and forty hours.  _

_That Jenny Marest is very perceptive.  This morning, she asked after Jack.  When I asked her how she knew he'd been home, she said I looked happy.  Well, I am happy.  I will always treasure last weekend.  _

………………

_I'm pregnant. Yes, I am sure.  Six tests in all sure. You will forgive me, my little friend, for the unsteadiness of my hand.  I don't know anything about being a mother. Babies are so fragile. Jack will make a good father. He's so gentle and patient with the neighborhood children.  Jerry was over just the other day telling me how much he missed Jack helping him out with the Little League team.   _

_Jack will be home in a couple days.  I will KILL the next person who assigns Jack to another of these long-term missions._  

"Jack? Are you planning on getting dressed or have you decided to show Sydney another side of you?"  Irina moved behind the recliner and gently massaged Jack's shoulders.  "Not that I'm complaining about the view, but I think Sydney has had enough shocks for now."

Jack moaned softly as her hands worked the muscles of his back.  "And if you keep that up, she'll need psychiatric treatment for life." He placed his hand on hers, as she ran her fingers over his chest. "How much time do we have before she gets here?"

Irina reluctantly drew her hands away.  "Not enough time for that, sweetheart," she told him regretfully.  "She'll be here any minute…Jack, don't look at me like that!"

"I love our daughter, but…"

"Jack!  Don't you even think such a thing.  You get to see her all the time.  My time with her is almost as precious as my time with you."

He nodded.  "I better take your diaries upstairs."

……………………………………

Irina hummed happily while she worked on the final touches of their first family meal in over twenty years.  The vegetables were gently steaming on the stovetop.  The temperature gauge showed the pork roast was nearing the appropriate doneness. She stretched her shoulders back to ease some of the tension.  

She had stressed over the meal for most of the day, first when deciding what she would prepare and then wondering if Sydney would like her selection.  The pork roast had been Jack's selection.  

_"It will be fine, honey." Jack reassured her. "You can make pork roast in your sleep."_

_She swatted the pillow at him. "Jack Bristow, that is not very nice. And that was your fault, anyway."_

_"My fault?  All I did was tell you how much I loved it.  I wasn't expecting you to have it for dinner every three days."_

_"It was not every three days.  Leftovers do not count."_

_"Hmpf." He squeezed her hand.  "Don't worry, sweetheart.  Sydney loves you.  She's just a little emotional, sometimes."_

_"I wonder where she got that from?" She snuggled closer, her free hand resting lightly on her husbands' chest._

_"Are you implying that I'm emotional?  I'll have you know…"_

_She moved her hand to his lips. "You might have others convinced that your heart is encased in ice, my darling husband, but I know better."  She rubbed his chest lightly.  "You feel things very deeply. You never do things halfway.  It's one of the things that I love about you."  She kissed him lightly on the lips.  "You're one of the most passionate people I know."_

_"Have you known many other passionate…people?"_

_Her head lifted at that. The question had been light, almost teasing, but she sensed there was another question layered beneath.  "Are you asking me if there have been other men in my life?" She felt him tense.  "Thirty years ago, I gave my heart to a tall man with a quirky smile. When I left, a part of me died.  I was certain I'd never see you again.  I didn't want to see you again."  She closed her eyes in an effort to shut out the remembered pain and loneliness.  "I've had sex with other men, Jack, but you are the only man I've every made love with."_

_Jack shifted away from her and Irina felt a moments panic.  "Why?"_

_She hugged her arms into herself. "Jack, you know as well as I do that in this business sex is a tool."  _

_"Thanks for the reminder," Jack said, dryly._

_"I wasn't talking about us." She reached for him, anxious to have him understand.  "Yes, the KGB wanted me to use sex to steal secrets from you, but we never had sex, sweetheart."_

_"I have some really strange memories from our marriage, then."_

_Irina gave him a light slap.  "You know what I mean, Jack.  We made love, right from our first time together."_

_"For a minute I thought I'd have to do a lot of explaining to Sydney."  He rolled to her. "That's not the answer to my question, though." She looked at him, her brows knitted in puzzlement. "I was asking why you didn't want to see me again?"  _

_His face was calm and emotionless, his voice, however, betrayed the hurt her words had caused. She hesitated before answering, wanting to choose her words carefully.  "I didn't want to see you again, because I couldn't bear to see the hate I knew would be in your eyes. All the years we were apart, I carried a picture of you in my head. I would close my eyes and see you standing in front of me.  You would turn your head and look at me, and then your eyes would shift in that subtle way of yours that always told me you wanted me.  I could almost feel your breath on my face as you leaned forward to kiss me.  My heart would race in anticipation of your touch.  And then the vision would change and…" Her voice cracked at the memory._

_"I love your pork roast." The non sequitur startled her. At her bewildered gaze, he added, "The years in-between, we've both done a lot of … questionable acts.  Right now, all I'm hoping for is pork roast three times a week."_

_She stared at him, fully taking in the meaning behind his words. "I would love to make pork roast every day of the week for you, but you know that isn't possible."_

_"Would you?  Would you be willing to go back to simply being 'Mrs. Jack Bristow'?.  No," he stalled her. "Think about it before you answer."_

_She did as he asked.  Finally, she shook her head no.  "Not 'Mrs. Jack Bristow'. I can't go back and be 'Laura' again.  Too much water has passed under the bridge." Jack nodded sadly.  "But, I could be 'Irina' Bristow."_

_He looked into her eyes hope re-igniting within his heart.  _

_"I loved being a teacher." She shook her head and smiled wistfully at him.  "It's a pipe dream, Jack, but a very pleasant one."_

_"You wouldn't miss the excitement of being a hunted terrorist whose very name strikes fear into the hearts of mere mortals?"_

_"You mean I'd have to give that up, too?" she joked._

_"So … is that a yes or a no?" _

_"I want to be with you, but I still need to be me. I am who I am." She saw in his eyes that he still didn't understand.  "I don't need to be the head of an international syndicate to be fulfilled.  I love being your wife.  The fringe benefits are… um… enormous…" She let her hand slide down to his groin. "But I don't want that to be all there is to who I am."  She stroked him lightly with the tips of her fingers. "Don't look so guilty.  You never did that. Another reason why I love you. There were other people who did. Neighbors, your co-workers, even the dean at the college."_

_"So, if by some miracle you were pardoned, you would be willing to stay here with me, become a teacher, and make me pork roast three times a week?" He kissed her lightly on the cheek. _

_"Pork roast once a week," she amended.  "Otherwise, you'll be tired of it before the month was out."_

"I don't think I could ever tire of your pork roast." He gave her a gentle kiss, his lips soft and tender against hers. He slipped his arms around her, warm hands pulling her close.

The slam of the front door startled her.  "Mom, Dad.  I'm home."

"In the kitchen, honey," Irina called to her daughter.

"Where's Dad?" Sydney leaned against the kitchen doorjamb.

"He's getting dressed. He should be down shortly."

"Dressed?" Realization dawned, even as she said it. "No, don't tell me.  I don't want to know."

"Really, Sydney," Irina's eyes twinkled at her daughter's discomfiture.  "Your father was reading while I prepared dinner and lost track of time."

"Oh. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm almost finished." She moved one of the pans to a back burner.  "Why don't you go into the den and fix your father a drink."

"Okay.  Um, Mom?" Sydney paused outside the kitchen door.  "That back burner is wired opposite of what it should be." She smiled, shaking her head. "It's been like that for as long as I can remember. I don't know why Dad never got it fixed."

Irina absently brushed her hair away from her face. "You're father needs a new stove," she said thoughtfully. "This one is over twenty years old.  Harvest green was very chic when we bought it, but I think a really nice stainless steel one would be much nicer, don't you?"  

"You and Dad bought the stove?"

Irina nodded. "About two weeks before I … had to go away."

"Oh." She looked from her mother to the stove and back.  "I think a stainless steel one would be nice."

Sydney wandered from the kitchen into the den.  She sat back against the couch and ran her fingers lightly through her hair, shoving the loose strands behind her ears.  The strangeness of seeing her mother busily preparing dinner made her feel a little disoriented. Vague images of her mother baking cookies flitted across her memories. She grabbed the throw pillow from the end of the couch and hugged it to her chest. The memories and the reality merged as she listened to the soft sound of her mother humming as she worked. 

A creak from the stairwell warned her that her father was on his way down.  She gave the pillow a gentle squeeze and started to replace it, when her hand brushed against the hard shell of a book. Curious, she picked it up.  When she opened it, her mother's neat handwriting immediately popped out at her.  

_"Sydney said her first word today.  It figures it would be 'dada'.  She's definitely 'daddy's little girl'. If she has Jack wrapped around her little finger now, I can't imagine what it will be like when she's a teenager._

"Sydney?" At her father's voice, she quickly shoved the book into her handbag.  

"Wow, Dad." She gave him an appreciative whistle. "You look hot. Black is definitely your color."

 "I'm not sure that is an appropriate remark for a daughter to make, but … thank you."

"So what's for dinner?"

"Pork roast."

"Pork roast?"

"I like pork roast."

"Dad, I've never seen you eat pork roast."

Jack frowned.  "Of course I've eaten pork roast."

"So … why pork roast?"

"Your mother … Sydney, why all the questions about pork roast?"

"It just seems a strange choice."

"I asked your mother to make it."

"You asked her to make it?"

"Sydney…" he glared at her.

"Okay, okay.  I was just kidding, Dad."

"Dinner is ready."  Irina stood at the door watching the exchange between father and daughter. Sydney's gentle teasing heartened her.  It had saddened her when she first learned of their estrangement and that her betrayal had, in some measure, caused it.  

"So, Mom, we're having pork roast." Sydney glanced over at her father, eyes dancing.  

"Sydney…" Jack warned. 

Irina laughed.  "I know what you are up to Sydney. Yes, there is a story behind the pork roast."

"I thought so." She sighed dramatically.  "Getting anything out of Dad is like pulling teeth."  

"When we were first married, I didn't really know how to cook." She glanced over at Jack. "My father was a high ranking member of the Communist party and we had servants who took care of the household.  As my parent's only child, I was expected to marry well. Cooking was not a required skill for someone in my social sphere."  She reached for Jack's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"The first year we were married, your father suffered through some pretty awful meals." She held his hand tighter.  "He never complained, though.  His mother came to visit and she taught me how to make a pork roast.  Your father loved it.  A lot.  So I started cooking it more often. I think my record for one week was five out of seven dinners featured pork roast." She laughed softly at the memory.  "I think that was the final straw.  Your dad signed us both up for a cooking class."

"Why both of you?" Sydney glanced over at her father.

"We were both working and your mother was given more responsibilities at the college.  I thought it was only fair that we share the duties.  Besides, it was something fun we could do together. Your mother really excelled in the class, even if I was ready to pound the teacher's face into the ground."

"You were no slouch yourself, Jack. And the teacher was not making passes at me, sweetheart."

"Irina, he kept brushing up against you."

"That was your overactive imagination. He didn't even come near me the last few weeks of the class."

"That's because I told him if he tried to touch you one more time, I'd knock his teeth down his throat."

"Dad, you didn't!"

"I did. He made sure he stayed away from her after that."  Jack told her, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. 

Sydney bit into a slice of the roast.  "Wow, this really is good, Mom."  Irina beamed at the compliment.  

"Mom," Sydney said hesitantly.  "You mentioned your family…" She glanced at her father begging silent forgiveness for opening old wounds.

"You want to know more about them?" She, too, glanced at Jack, her own eyes asking forgiveness.

"I'm interested, too, Irina."  Jack smiled when their eyes met his with identical expressions of relief.  

"My father was one of Nikita Khrushchev's select party members and later, allied himself to Leonid Brezhnev. My upbringing was very privileged by any standard.  I was expected to marry well and bring further glory to the family.  When I was seventeen, my father selected his future son-in-law."  She paused, remembering how angry she had been at her father. "He was quite a bit older than I and already well on his way up the Soviet ladder.  I was not very happy about my father's decision. So when the KGB approached me about joining, I jumped at the opportunity."

"Who was the man your father chose?  Is he famous?"

Irina looked at Jack, who was studying his plate with great interest.  "No, not really.  He died suddenly in 82. His heart stopped beating."  

"He had a heart attack?" 

"You could call it that."  Irina paused, going for maximum effect.  "The knife I put through his chest probably didn't help."

"You put a knife through his chest?" Sydney swallowed. "Mom…"

"He was in charge of a prison near the Indian border. When he found out I was to be one of his prisoner's, he took great pleasure in extracting revenge."

"Revenge?" Sydney looked confused.  "For what? You weren't even engaged."

"An arrangement had already been made between my father and him. Favors had already been exchanged, although I wasn't aware of it at the time. When I told my father about joining the KGB, he was not happy.  He tried to get me released, but his influence was not strong enough to block it."

"You said your mother gave you those earring when you graduated?" Sydney broke in softly. "I guess she was okay with your decision."

Irina nodded.  "She was proud of me.  I graduated first in my class and she envisioned me performing some glorious deed for Mother Russia."  Irina reached under the table, her hand searching for Jack's.  When she found it, she clasped her hand in his, giving him a gentle squeeze.  "I was disappointed with my first assignment.  Instead of sneaking into some Capitalist stronghold and stealing secrets, I was sent to America to seduce one of their top agents."  She felt Jack tense and she held his hand tighter.  "He was young, but incredibly bright, they told me.  The assignment was to be a year, two at the most. That's usually the optimum time frame for success without discovery."  She felt Jack's hand pull away from hers. Desperately, she continued, hoping Jack would understand.  

"Pretending you are in love with someone isn't easy and the agent starts slipping up after about that time.  That's how the 'mark' realizes what is happening."  

Sydney felt the tension between her parents. "Mom, maybe you should tell me about this another time."

"No, Sydney." Jack's voice was raw with emotion.  "Let her tell it. Hiding from the truth won't make it any more palatable. Obviously I wasn't as intelligent as the KGB thought.  I'm sure they all had a good laugh."  

"Jack…" Irina felt the pain of his words. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him tight, but knew that the moment wasn't right.  

"Go ahead, Irina." Jack took a deep breath.  "This way, you only have to tell it once."

"The KGB file classified your father as emotionally repressed and somewhat of a loner.  He was not known to have any attachments at that time, but had dated women in the past."

"What exactly was that supposed to mean?" Jack snorted.  

"They wanted to make sure you weren't playing for the other team, Jack."

"I understood that.  I am not emotionally repressed, nor a loner…"

"I know that, dear, but you are a very passionate man, who hides those feelings from outsiders well and their definitions were far too simplistic for a man like you." She smiled at him and this time he allowed her to take his hand.  

"You are really good at hiding what you are feeling, Dad. When I was growing up, you never showed you cared…" 

Jack stared at his daughter, then looked away. "I did what was necessary, Sydney."

"Necessary?  You locked me out!"

"I had to.  For your own sake."

"How can you say that, Dad?"  Sydney's voice started to rise.  "I needed you…"

 "You have no idea what you are talking about," Jack interrupted harshly.  "You remember the events from a child's' view.  It was far more complicated than that.  I did what I thought was best for you."

"What was so complicated about a little girl needing her father?" Sydney angrily brushed back the tears that spilled unbidden down her cheek.  "All I needed to know was that you loved me," she whispered hoarsely.

"Of course I loved you. Every decision I made…" Jack's voice broke off.  "You were having terrible nightmares.  Every night, you would wake up screaming for your mother.  The doctor's told me that you would get better with time. Then they locked me up for six months.  When I came back home, you were worse. Every night was a battle to get you to go to bed. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and find you asleep in my bed. I'd carry you back to your own bed and an hour later, you would wake up screaming."  

"I don't remember any of this, Dad."   

"You were a child, Sydney, and it was a very traumatic time for you."  Jack's hands trembled as he took a sip from his wineglass. "Are you sure you really want to hear about this?"

"I never understood why you pushed me away."  Sydney fiddled with her fork, pushing at the food on her plate.  "I thought the only person you ever cared about was mom and once she was gone, you wanted me gone, too."   She looked her father squarely in the eyes.  "Yes, Dad, I want to know why you acted like I didn't exist for almost twenty years of my life."

Jack flinched at her words. "I know you feel that way, but I did care. You were the center of my universe. But I couldn't let you know that.  Sydney, I wanted so much to hold you, to hug you when you hurt, but it just wasn't possible."

"Why not?"

"After we got back from our Disney trip, I took on what I thought was my final assignment.  It required me to be gone for days at a time. When I was able to get home, you would cling to me. When I had to leave again, you would cry and beg me not to leave.  More than anything in the world, I wanted to tell you that I would never leave you alone again. I couldn't take you to school in the mornings. You would cry... loud, choking sobs and hold onto me. I felt like an ogre when I let them pull you away."  Jack paused and looked distantly out the window. 

"Separation anxiety.  That's what the doctors told me.  It would take time, but eventually you would get better.  When you began having the panic attacks, I didn't know what to do. Sometimes I couldn't even get you out of the house. "

The room crackled with tension. Sydney stared at her plate, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. 

Jack finally looked away from the window to his daughter.  "I planned to leave the CIA and get a job where I could spend more time with you. I had one final job to complete, my final penance for my profound stupidity."  Jack's eyes flickered to Irina as he heard her gasp. "That was my reasoning then, Irina.  Six months of having the CIA and the FBI tell me I was an idiot and a fool took its toll. I was asked to infiltrate a newly formed mercenary group called The Secret Society.  It was rumored that several CIA agents were involved in its formation.  My job was to determine who was running the operation. I was to pose as a disenchanted agent."  

He shrugged wryly. "It wasn't much of a stretch at the time.  I frequented the appropriate bars. Word got around and an offer was made to join.   It took about six months before they invited me into the inner circle.  When I met the leader of the group, I knew that it truly was my final assignment."

Irina understood immediately and gripped Jack's hand tightly in her own.  "The leader was Arvin Sloane, wasn't it?"  The cold dryness of her voice matched Jack's. "Once you knew, leaving was not an option."

"We could have gone into the Witness Protection Plan, Dad. That was an option."

Jack shook his head to indicate 'no'.  "My sister's career was just taking off. She would have to go in hiding with us. She would never be able to pursue the one career she loved.  And you.  You were so young. We would have had to move every couple of months.  You wouldn't be able to have friends; it would be too risky. Besides, I didn't want you to grow up always looking over your shoulder."

"And they would have found you, anyway."  Irina shivered, as she thought of how easily she could have lost her family. "You could have died. Either way, you could have died.." 

"Yes."

Irina lightly placed her hand on his shoulder. "You were worried that Sydney wouldn't be strong enough emotionally to handle your death, too."

"Yes."

"So you pushed me away?"  Sydney stared blank faced at her father.

"Yes."

 "And you think pushing me away was better than taking a chance in the Witness Protection Program?"

"I know it was."

"How can you be so sure?"

Jack was silent for a moment and Sydney thought at first that he wasn't going to answer.  

When he finally spoke, there was a hint of sadness and regret that filtered through his quiet assurance. "They would have found us within six months and we wouldn't be sitting here having this little chat.  That's how I can be so sure."  

"Dad, lots of people have survived in the Witness Protection program. Sure, sometimes people are found, but it's usually because they contact someone from their old life."

Jack threw his napkin on the table.  "Dan Everett had a wife and two children.  His oldest daughter dreamed of going to Harvard.  She was very bright, but not quite enough for the scholarship money needed to pay the requisite tuition.  The Secret Society made Dan an offer that was too good to be true. They sold him on the idea that he would still be working for the 'good guys', people who had only the best interest of the country at heart.  The salary was three times what the CIA paid. He could put his daughter through college and maintain the lifestyle to which he'd become accustomed.  A year later, he stumbled across some information on one of the more covert of the Society's secret operations.  It involved the assassination of a key political player.  The politician was well liked and there was talk of a run for the Presidency."

Jack picked up his wineglass and swirled the liquid around before taking a sip.  "Dan started to dig a little deeper.  What he found scared him.  He contacted the CIA and started feeding them information.  When the assassination attempt failed, the Society started investigating. The CIA helped Dan and his family disappear.  One month later, one of Dan's cousins was shot as he and his family were leaving for church. Six weeks later, their next-door neighbor was killed in a freak car accident.  Eight weeks later, an uncle's house exploded while the family slept. Ten weeks later, their daughter's boyfriend was killed by a hit and run driver. Eleven weeks later, the daughter was found in a dumpster with a wire around her neck." Jack took another swallow of wine.  Sloane had shown photo's of her mutilated body at the next briefing. 

"The next day, the police found Dan and his wife dead in their home. The teenage son was missing. The FBI searched the neighborhood, but he was long gone. A Society operative picked him up from school hours before the hit.   They told him his father had murdered his mother and sister and he was next.  The police drew a similar conclusion.  They presumed that the boy was also dead and closed the case."

"It wasn't until Sloane changed the name of the organization to SD-6 that recruits were told they were working for a black ops division of the CIA. Before that, example was the best way to keep those who thought about straying in line.  Three agents tried to leave in that first year.  None of them survived."  Jack's eyes clouded as he remembered the men who had once been his friends and comrades.  He had known their wives and children.  

"What I was doing was dangerous enough. I laid low for several years, desperately trying to keep under Sloane's radar. It was more difficult because we had once been friends."

"That still doesn't explain why you continued to treat me like a …" She searched for the word. "…like a leper.  When I was older, you could have explained you had a dangerous job.  I could have handled it."

"Sloane kept asking me to bring you to the family Christmas parties and picnics. I kept telling him you preferred to stay home. I didn't want you any where near him or SD-6. You were perverse enough at that time to latch on to Sloane to spite me and he would have played on your vulnerability. Your anger at me was my best cover and my worst nightmare."  Jack shoved his chair back.  "I don't know how this conversation went from being about your mother to being about me."  He leaned over and took Sydney's hand in his.  "I can't take away those lost years, Sydney.  If the same choices were placed before me today, I don't know if I would make the same decisions. I thought I was keeping you away from all this and instead, I made it that much easier for Sloane to lure you in.  The only thing I can say in my defense is that everything I did was because I loved you."

Sydney listened in horror as her father revealed a different side of her childhood. "Dad, there is something I never told you."

…………………………………

"Before you say anything, let's go into the den.  I think your father needs something a little stronger to drink." Irina moved to her husband's side and gently placed a hand under his elbow.  "I think we all need something a little stronger to drink."  

"Sydney, will you give your mother and me a moment?" Sydney looked at her father curiously, but nodded and left them alone.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" Irina tensed, not sure of Jack's mood after the difficult revelations over dinner.

"I'm sorry about tonight." He said softly, pulling her into his arms. "I know how much you were looking forward to a nice family meal."

"And we did have a nice family meal.  My pork roast turned out great."

Jack laughed.  "Yes, it did. But you know what I meant, sweetheart. I shouldn't have told Sydney … I should have waited for a more appropriate time."

"This was the appropriate time.  Sydney needed to hear it." She paused.  "And so did I.  Jack… there is so much about that time that I don't know, that I don't understand.  Tonight helped me to put things in better perspective." She lightly caressed his cheek.  "It helps to know that you didn't push her away because she reminded you of me."

He looked into her eyes then. "You thought I was that shallow?"

"No, I thought you were that hurt." She took a deep breath. "We better go in and find out whatever it is that Sydney never told you."

"She never told me a lot of things." He said dryly.  "The worst thing she ever did that I am not supposed to know about was when she was caught kissing a boy in the girls bathroom. She should have been in biology class. A guidance counselor found them making out in one of the stalls.  Sydney told the teacher they were conducting a biology experiment."  

They walked, arms linked, into the den.  Sydney was sitting in a recliner, a glass of ginger ale sweating on the table next to her.  A bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table, with two half filled glasses resting on soapstone coasters.

Irina's eyes widened when she read the label on the bottle. "Wild Turkey, sweetheart?"

"I thought you might need the strong stuff."

"You aren't going to tell us how you lost your virginity, are you?"

"Mom!" Sydney shot an embarrassed look at her father.  He flushed slightly. "Oh, my god, Dad.  You already know, don't you?"

"Yes."   

"How?" she demanded. "I never told anyone."

Jack looked away, his face turning a deeper shade of red. "I…Sydney, you told me."

"_I_ told you? When? I couldn't have. I didn't even tell Francie.  Why would I tell you?"

"I don't think you knew I was there. You've always talked in your sleep whenever something is troubling you and quite frequently you would sleep walk." Jack smiled at Sydney. "I would be sound asleep and the next thing I know, you're sitting on my bed telling me all your troubles." 

"I don't remember any of that, Dad." 

"I know. After one of our late night chats, I made a mistake the next morning by mentioning something you'd said to me the night before. You got really angry and accused me of snooping through your things."

Sydney stared at her father.  "I remember that. You asked me about Kyle. I had such a crush on him, but I didn't want anyone to know. I was so embarrassed when you asked me about him." She laughed.  "So that's how you knew.  I thought you'd read my diary." She stopped, another memory clicked into place.  "You knew that's what I was thinking. That's why you bought me the special bookcase. The man who made it came with the deliveryman and showed me how to open the secret compartment.  He said we were the only two people who knew how it worked."

"I wanted you to have some place you felt was safe for your secrets."

"So you knew what Jared did, because I told you in my sleep?"

Jack nodded. "Sloane sent me to India three weeks before your sixteenth birthday. The assignment was supposed to last a week, but Sloane kept dragging it out. I wanted to get back in time for your birthday party. I had some things of your mother's I wanted to give you. I left India on the 16th, which should have given me plenty of time to make it home. I wasn't finished with the mission and Sloane made a number of threats on what he'd do if I left before it was complete."

Jack picked up the tumbler from the coffee table.  He stared at the glass, his eyes clouded at the memory. "I got on the plane that morning.  The next thing I remember was waking up in a fleabag hotel in Melbourne.  I knew I would never make it home in time, so I called you at your school. I could tell you were angry with me, but there was nothing I could do. When I finally got home, you were already in bed, asleep. Sometime later, you came into my room and told me everything." 

"Then you already know what I was going to tell you."

"If it was about the party, then … yes, I already know."

"I didn't tell you about what happened earlier…at school?"

He looked at her, puzzled.  "You didn't mention anything about school."

…………………………………………….

"I was sent back into the office about an hour after you called me.  Two men were waiting for me. They took me into the guidance counselor's office, said they were from the FBI.  I saw their badges. One of them told me you were a drug runner. They wanted me spy on you."

"My god, Jack!" Irina's eyes flashed in fury. "You didn't believe them, Sydney?" 

"I told them they were wrong, that you sold airplane parts. They said that was your cover. They told me they would be back in a week to see if I found any information.  I was so scared."

Jack looked stricken.  "When you told me about what happened that night, you were a little incoherent.  You mentioned drugs, but I thought that boy… I thought that was how he got you to go with him."

"He did in a way, but I was really angry at you. And confused.  I think I would have said yes to anybody that night.  Mrs. Tanner went ahead with the party, but she had one of her migraines and went to lie down.  Jared had some pot and we all tried it.  When everyone started to leave, Jared asked me to go for a ride with him and I agreed.  I guess the pot wore off and I got scared.  I tried to say no, but he said I was just a big tease."

Jack stared unseeing at the bottle of whiskey.  "I did a little investigating of Jared, discovered his activities. I gave an anonymous tip to the police."

Sydney stared at her father.  "You did that because of what I told you?"  

"Yes."  He rubbed his temples.  "I know I wasn't much of a father to you.  I failed to protect you and I'm sorry for that.  It was the only thing I knew I could do.  I was worried that you might have gotten pregnant and I didn't want you getting a back alley abortion.  Do you remember that Doctor's appointment you had the next day?"

"You mean that physical exam I had to take because of your insurance company?"

"Yes, that one.  I told the doctor what had happened and he took the necessary steps to make sure there wasn't any chance of conception."  

"I was worried that first month.  I was so relieved when I found out I wasn't pregnant."

"What about the men who accused your father of being a drug runner?" Irina clenched the glass of whiskey tightly in her hands.  Sydney was glad it was one of the thicker ones.

"They never came back.  I decided they had made a mistake.  I'd been to Dad's office and toured the plant.  Our class did a field trip out there the year before.  I didn't tell them my dad worked there, though."

"Sloane died too easily Jack.  You should have let me torture him first."

"I thought Dad killed Sloane?"

"No Sydney, your mother did.  She saved my life. We couldn't tell anyone at the time, since by letting her leave, I let a wanted criminal escape."

"Well, this night is just full of revelations, isn't it? It must be your turn, Mom. You never did finish telling us about your assignment to spy on Dad."

"I'm not sure I want any more revelations tonight." Jack grabbed the bottle of whiskey and added a few more shots to his glass. 

Irina let her hand rest on his thigh. "Not all the revelations will be bad, darling."  Jack looked unconvinced at her reassurance.

"Where was I before we got sidetracked." She winked at Sydney,  "Oh yes, the picture.  Actually, there were several photographs, all of them dreadful.  On the trip over, I devised several plans on getting the requisite information and getting out as soon as possible."

"I thought you said the revelations weren't all going to be bad," Jack interrupted testily.

"Be quiet and let me finish my story."  She allowed her hand to slip further up his thigh. "You're father had an apartment off campus and the KGB set me up in a unit in the same building.  I watched his routine for about a week before I approached him.  Sydney, this will probably not come as a shocking revelation, but your father is remarkably slow on the uptake."

"I am not.  I was just being cautious."  Jack gave his wife an affronted glare. "As it turns out, I wasn't cautious enough."

"That's because you were overwhelmed by my charm, darling." She gave his thigh a gentle squeeze.  "I made all these elaborate plans on how I was going to meet and seduce your father and the reality of it was our meeting really was accidental."

Jack snorted.  "Like hell it was."

Irina glared at Jack.  "It was too.  That package being accidentally delivered to you instead was not one of my plans."

"I know." Jack smirked.  "It was mine."

Sydney looked from her father to her mother and started laughing.  "Dad, you didn't? You intercepted Mom's mail as a ruse to meet her?"  Her father's nod caused her to laugh harder.

"It's not that funny, Sydney!" Irina told her daughter indignantly. "In ten years of marriage, Jack, you never told me that."

"The subject never came up." Jack responded with feigned innocence. 

"Dinner with Mom and Dad, $50. After dinner conversation, …I'm using the good booze…$75, watching Mom's shocked expression while Dad drops a bombshell…priceless."

"Sydney, darling, you've been watching too much television." Irina gave her daughter a disapproving look.

"Too late, Mom, you can't divert me that easily.  Dad, I think you one upped her." Sydney wasn't sure, but she thought her mother might have made a noise that sounded very much like a snort. She grinned.  "So, what happened next?"

"Well, I thanked your father for bringing the package.  He told me it was very heavy and it would be easier if he brought it in for me."

"Good one, Dad."

"I wasn't born yesterday.  I had the whole thing planned out and it came off exactly as I planned it. I was quite happy it worked, but I guess any plan I devised would have achieved the same results."

"It worked better than you realized.  You took me by surprise. I can't explain it, but I fell in love with you that day.  I offered you coffee.  We sat and talked. Then you asked me out to dinner.  Nothing fancy, you said."

"The local pizza hangout, remember?" 

"Afterwards, you took me back to the apartment. He didn't even kiss me good night.  I invited him to come back into the apartment, but he just said he had to study and that he'd 'see me around'."

"You went to all that trouble to meet Mom and all you could say was 'see ya'?"

"I told you, I was being cautious."

"It sounds more like you got cold feet."

"Okay, so your mother is a very beautiful woman.  When she walks into a room, heads turn."  Jack swallowed.  "I didn't realize how much out of her league I was until we walked into that pizza parlor."

"So, what happened next?"  Sydney smiled encouragingly at her mother.  "It obviously didn't end there."

"I simply revised my earlier tactics.  I accidentally knocked over your father's stack of clean clothes in the laundry room. I would bump into him in the library.  His eyes told me he was interested, but getting him to act on it was very frustrating."  Irina's lips curved into a soft smile at the memory.  "I had to almost set the apartment on fire to get his attention."

"The fire alarm went off. I was just walking up the stairs to my apartment when I heard her scream."

"I was not screaming."

"Yes, you were. The screams were so loud, I thought she was on fire. I managed to get the fire under control"

"Then I kissed him and started another fire." Her mother grinned at Sydney's look.

"Okay, I think we can skip the next part, Mom." Sydney squirmed in her chair.  "I don't need details."

"But, sweetheart, I thought you would want to know how your father…"

"I don't need to everything, Mom."  Sydney appealed to her father.  "Make her stop, Dad."

"Irina, honey, maybe we could discuss this later. When we are alone." Jack looked nervously at his wife.  She was enjoying herself far too much.  

"Sydney, I just wanted you to know that your father's insecurities were unfounded.  Women were constantly flirting with him.  He just never noticed.  When he kissed me, I didn't want him to ever stop."

"And we didn't, not for quite some time."  Jack grinned at the memory.

"My father was busy at home trying to get me reassigned.  I finally sent a message to him.  I told him that even if I did go back, I would never agree to marry Grigor.  I knew the difference, then, between love and sex. Your father taught me that."

"About the sex thing, Mom. I really would prefer you don't go there."

"Sweetheart, you do realize we had to 'go there' eventually?  The stork did not pull you out of a cabbage patch and place you in my arms."

"Yes, but I don't need details." Sydney's eyes met her father's.  "I saw more than I needed to from your honeymoon tapes."

"Our honeymoon?"  Irina looked at Jack in horror.  "She's seen…"

Jack laughed.  "Not everything, darling. I stopped it before it got too revealing."

"Trust me, Mom, it was enough!"

Irina rubbed her hand lightly along Jack's thigh.  She looked into his eyes and saw an answering spark.  "It's getting late, Sydney.  Do you want to spend the night? You're old room is ready for you."

Sydney caught the look her parents were sharing and smiled.  "I think I will take you up on that.  I am feeling a little tired and there is so much more I want to know." She stood and picked up the bottle of whiskey, murmuring a soft goodnight.

"Hmmm. See you in the morning, honey."  

"Goodnight sweetheart.  Irina, shouldn't you at least wait until she's left the room?"


	28. 28 Final Chapter

_Sydney caught the look her parents were sharing and smiled.  "I think I will take you up on that.  I am feeling a little tired and there is so much more I want to know." She stood and picked up the bottle of whiskey, murmuring a soft goodnight._

_"Hmmm. See you in the morning, honey."  _

_"Goodnight sweetheart.  Irina, shouldn't you at least wait until she's left the room?"[/i]_

Sydney stopped at the kitchen and grabbed and empty tumbler from the cabinet. She walked up the stairs, trying to ignore the sounds emanating from the den. She tried humming to herself as she treaded down the hallway to her room. Once inside, Sydney banged the door shut. Throwing her handbag on the bed, she started rummaging through the dressers and the closet for a change of clothing.  She found one of her father's old shirts hanging behind a heavy winter coat. The dresser drawers yielded underclothing and jeans.  Satisfied with her haul, she shed her clothes and slipped on her father's shirt.  The scent of his cologne still clung to the fabric.  It was an odor that always seemed so uniquely his.  She pulled the shirt tightly to her chest, soaking in the spicy scent. As a child, she always felt the safest when she wore his shirt to bed, allowing his smell to surround her. 

She picked up the bottle of whiskey from the table and poured out a generous portion, before settling comfortably onto her bed.  The night had been one long roller coaster ride.  She took a hefty gulp of her drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down her throat.  Another gulp brought her the subtle warmth of the liquid, allowing her to relax against the pillows.  She stretched out under the covers, her foot hitting against something solid at the end of the bed.  Glancing down past her feet, she saw that her purse had worked its way near the footer and was perilously close to falling off edge of the bed.  She rescued the bag and started to place it on the table next to her, when the hard edge of diary slipped out from its confines. She took the book out, opening it to the first page. Her mother had neatly inscribed June 1974 to December 1977 on the inside cover.  

Judging from the dates, the diary covered the first two years of her life.  The thought of reading about her baby years was narcissistically appealing, but the book held her mother's private thoughts. Reading it seemed an invasion of privacy.  On the other hand, she'd read some of the diary earlier, and that hadn't contained anything too personal.  What could a few more pages hurt? 

………………………………………..

_"Goodnight sweetheart.  Irina, shouldn't you at least wait until she's left the room?"[/i]_

"I've waited far too long, Jack.  Besides, Sydney's a big girl now. She knows what happens between a man and a woman."

"Yes, but a child usually doesn't witness her parents going at each other like horny teenagers."

"I feel like a horny teenager."  

"Hmmm. Well I feel like a husband who has been without his wife for far too long." Jack got up and held a hand out to Irina.  She took it and pulled herself up.  Instead of releasing him, she drew him to her, her lips capturing his. The kiss deepened and they clung together, pulling apart only when startled by the sound of a door slamming against its frame.

Jack smiled.  "Sydney."

Irina laughed. "It was a very good slam. I'm proud to be her mother."  She traced a finger across his lips. "That was very much like our first kiss."

"Mmmm.  Not quite.  This time I get to take you to bed."

"You could have done it that time, too."

"Well, how was I to know you were ordered to have sex with me?"

"It wouldn't have had anything to do with orders.  My handler was all for stringing you along for a while. _I,_ [/I] on the other hand, wanted very much to make love with you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."  She brushed her hand through his hair.  "I know you've had over twenty years to rethink our relationship and the time we've had since then has been very short, but Jack…, what we had would not have lasted very long if I hadn't loved you.  You would have seen through me very early in the game. You know that here."  She touched his temple. "Now try to believe it here." Her hand covered his heart.

Pulling her hand to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss at the bend of her wrist. "You never did finish telling us about your father. Why did he give up trying to bring you back to Russia?"

Irina would have preferred to discuss their marriage further, but recognized Jack's not so subtle change of subject for what it was; he needed more time. "Why do you want to know that?"

"I'm just surprised he let go so easily."

"Not so surprising, really. I told him the truth."  

"The truth?  You told him you'd fallen in love with me?" She nodded.  "But Irina, all he had to do was tell the KGB and you would have been on the first plane home."

"I knew he wouldn't." 

"How could you be so sure?  He almost sold you off to the highest bidder…"

"Jack, he was arranging my future.  It was how things were done in our circle."  She pulled him closer.  "He knew when I married you that there would be no one else.  He was happy for me, but worried about what would happen should I ever have to leave."

Jack kissed her temple, smoothing her hair behind her ears. "You wanted Sydney?"

"Yes, Jack, I wanted Sydney.  She was made because of my love for you."

"You need to tell her that."

"Tomorrow." She put her finger against his mouth. "Let's go to bed."

"Good idea." Jack took her hand and they walked together up the stairs. When they reached the top step, Irina stopped. She turned to him and started unbuttoning his shirt, laying tiny kisses along his chest as each opened button revealed more flesh.

"Irina, can't we at least wait until we get to the door. Our daughter is just down the hall."

Irina gave a throaty laugh. "Good, maybe we can teach her a few things."

"I'd rather she didn't…Irina, please tell me that wasn't my zipper…" Jack groaned as his wife's hand slipped along his hardened shaft. "Oh God, honey, you're hands are like magic…"

They both jumped when loud music suddenly blared from Sydney's room. They pulled apart. Irina glared at Sydney's door. "You don't suppose she's planning on keeping it that loud all night?"

"No, she'll turn it down in a little bit. She used to do that when she was a teenager."

Irina turned her glare on to her husband. "Jack, you haven't been bringing other women to our bedroom?"  

"What? No, the loud music was usually after an argument. Curfew. Boys. You know…, the usual."

Her glare turned to sorrow. "No, I don't know.  Oh God, Jack.  I really wanted to be here for her during those years." Tears hovered in the corner of her eyes. Jack brushed at them gently as Irina struggled for control.

"I know," he whispered softly.  He held her for a moment, then pulled back, looking deep into her eyes. "Besides, I usually reserved a room at the closest hotel for all my women."  His lips quirked into a smiled and added,  "The desk clerk knew me by name."

"Jack, you better be trying to cheer me up.  Otherwise, I'm going to shoot you." Jack laughed and swooped her off her feet.  Irina gave a startled yelp and Sydney cranked the music louder.

"Jack, what are you doing?" Irina shouted over the music. "You'll injure yourself..."

"Are you saying I'm too old?" 

"You're as young as you feel." 

"Well, right at the moment, I really do feel like I'm a man in my fifties." He pulled her tighter to his chest.  "But I love the feel of your body against mine."

"Hmmm. You have the body of a 20 year old, darling." She leaned in to kiss him, as he moved them closer to the bedroom. "Trust me, I know."

"And you were complaining about my women!" Carrying her through the threshold, he kicked the door shut behind him and laid her on the bed.

"I used sex to survive, Jack.  You know that. But that's all it was.  Every time they touched my body, a part of me died inside.  I couldn't even fantasize that it was you sharing my bed, for fear I'd call out your name." She felt his body tense against hers. "They never touched my soul, sweetheart. Only you have ever done that."

"You told me all this last night, Irina. I wasn't questioning you just now."

"I just need to be sure that you believe me.  I need you to know that you possess not only my heart, but my soul."

"I think we've talked enough for one day. I'm ready for the part where actions speak louder than words." Jack's hands reached for the hem of her sweater, expertly lifting the top over hear head as she fell back against the pillows.  

"I'm very good at the action parts," Irina sighed, as Jack quickly shed his own clothing.

~-~ ~-~

Sydney opened the diary to the first entry.  

_My little friend, it looks like you are going to be my only company for a while. Five_ _weeks. It seems an eternity. The bed feels so cold without him. I gave a 'pop quiz' to my students today.  None of them seemed very surprised.  Jeremy Dayton wrote me a note on the bottom of his paper.  He wanted to know how long my husband was going to be away this time.  I had to laugh.  _

_~_

_Yes, little book it's me again.  Angela asked me where my husband worked.  I told her teachers are not allowed to give out that type of information.  Then I asked her why she wanted to know.  According to her, several of my students decided it was time to take action and ask his boss to send him home.  A 'win-win' situation, she said._ [/I]

Sydney looked up when she heard muted laughter from the hall.  Her parents.  Automatically she reached for her old stereo and jammed up the sound.  She laughed softly.  She hadn't done that since she was a teenager.  A startled cry pierced over the music and Sydney cranked the box higher.  

Ten minutes passed before she decided it was safe to lower the volume.  Turning it off completely was out of the question.  No child should ever hear her parents making out. She turned back to the book, scanning through several entries that followed the same vein as the first two.  In August, the tenor changed.

_Jack surprised me Friday.  Somehow, he convinced the Grand Poobahs to give him a weekend pass.  We spent almost every minute in bed.  Mostly we were making love, but sometimes, we just held each other close.  It was all I could do to let him go away again.  His pillow smells like him again.  Five more weeks.  Eight hundred and forty hours.  _

_That Jenny Marest is very perceptive.  This morning, she asked after Jack.  When I asked her how she knew he'd been home, she said I looked happy.  Well, I am happy.  I will always treasure last weekend.  _

~

_We didn't have much time together, little book. The next five weeks will be very boring for you, since I will probably spend it remembering the weekend.  I was supposed to teach two classes last Friday, but I called in sick.  Lydia covered the classes for me. She asked after Jack. Am I so transparent?  _

_We had three whole days of just the two of us. It was wonderful. Every part of me still aches today, but I don't care. I'm sure Jack is equally sore._ [/I]

Sydney quickly turned the page, as her mother started to describe exactly how sore.  Scanning once more, she located the part that was more interesting to her.

_I'm not feeling very well, little book.  I think I might have the flu. _

_~_

_I'm pregnant. Yes, I am sure.  Six tests in all sure. You will forgive me, my little friend, for the unsteadiness of my hand.  I don't know anything about being a mother. Babies are so fragile. Jack will make a good father. He's so gentle and patient with the neighborhood children.  Jerry was over just the other day telling me how much he missed Jack helping him out with the Little League team.   _

_Jack will be home in a couple days.  I will KILL the next person who assigns Jack to another of these long-term missions.  _

~

_I told Jack about the baby today.  He's so excited. We haven't told his family yet. He thought we could tell them when we visit at Thanksgiving.  I'll be near the end of my first trimester by then. His mother will not be happy with us for keeping it a secret from her for so long, but Jack seems to want to enjoy our pregnancy just between us.  He had to tell his boss.  There shouldn't be any long-term assignments for a while now.  Jack's trying to get transferred closer to the project site. I want him to wait until after the baby is born.  _

_~_

_Thanksgiving was very interesting, my friend.  Jack's mother went out shopping right away.  I'm not even showing yet … at least when I'm wearing clothes.  Jack has noticed the other changes already taking place.  My breasts are more tender when he touches..._

Sydney turned the pages quickly, skipping over the varied sexual references. Learning her father was 'well-endowed' was not one of things she really needed to know.

She kicked me, little book.  Yes, I said 'she'.  Of course, we really have no idea if it's a boy or a girl. We decided we'd rather be surprised. Jack is predicting a little girl, though, and now refers to the baby as 'she' or 'her'.  We are just past the halfway point, only four more months to go.  

_~_

_Sometimes I feel like a lumbering whale. Getting out of bed is difficult.  Bathing is difficult.  Making love … well, Jack has never had any trouble there.  But you are already well aware of that, my friend.  I'm glad Jack's assignments have all been closer to home.  Every time I start fretting about how big I am, he looks at me with those warm brown eyes.  I see in them how much he loves me, how much it means to him that I am carrying his child. _

_~_

_Do you suppose the old wives tale about castor oil is true?  I'm ready to deliver this baby.  Now.  The doctor said everything looks like it is on schedule and not to rush things.  The baby will come when it's time.  I think I'll have Jack pick up a bottle of castor oil on his way home.  _

~

_She's beautiful, my friend.  Ten fingers and toes. Yes, I counted them.  Jack says she will look like me, but I already see much of Jack in her.  She has his ears, which he hates, but I love. We finally settled on a name.  Sydney Ann.  It's beautiful, isn't it?  Just like my baby.  _

_~_

_I decided to breastfeed.  It's not as easy as they make it look.  No one mentioned how much it would hurt.  The nurse assured me that the pain would go away soon. I hope so. I want to enjoy feeding her. _

_~_

_How can I describe the feeling I have, holding my baby in my arms as she suckles my breast? She's so fragile. When I look down at her, the trust in her eyes as she snuggles against me; I am filled with awe.  Over and over in my head I hear a refrain I thought I never would. I am her mother. _

_I have a picture of Jack holding our baby.  He's so big and she's so tiny.  I've started calling him my gentle giant.  You should have seen his face when she tried to nuzzle him.  I laughed so hard.  _

_~_

_Jack has already started spoiling Sydney.  I've told him no more toys. If he gets any more stuffed animals, we won't have room for the baby.  _

_~_

_Good news.  The doctor has given the okay to 'resume normal relations'._  

Sydney closed the diary.  There were still more pages, but she'd leave that for another time.  She scrunched down into the covers, smiling at the image of her mother holding a tiny baby in her arms.  

************

"Irina, come back to bed.  The sun isn't even up yet."

Irina glanced at her husband lounging against the headboard.  "One of my diaries is missing."

"Missing? I'm sure we took all of them from dresser."

"We did.  I had it out earlier.  I'm going down to the den and look."

"Irina?"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"Don't you think you should put something on before you go?"

She looked down and realized she was indeed totally naked.  Walking to the closet, she pulled a robe off the inside hook.  Frowning, she pulled the robe around her. She fingered the material, remembering the day she'd purchased it for him. "Jack?" 

"Yes, Irina, it's the same one."

"You kept it?"

"After the CIA arrested me for conspiracy to commit treason, they did a very thorough search of the house.  I was brought along…for multiple reasons, not the least of which was to see our home destroyed.  They took special joy in ripping open the Christmas presents you'd already wrapped."  Jack got up and pulled a pair of jeans from the nearby dresser.  "Do you remember that Raggedy Ann doll I brought back from England?  

Irina nodded, unable to move.

"One of the agents took a knife and ripped it open from top to bottom. All the gifts intended for me were paraded by with corresponding derogatory remarks.  They took great pleasure in regaling me with the robe."

_"Hey, Bristow, the wife bought you a robe! I guess she got tired of looking at your naked body."_ [/I]

"I see from the look on your face they didn't like the robe?" She wrapped it closer. "I was looking forward to seeing you in it."

"They seemed to think that was the point of your purchase."

She cocked her head to one side.  "Now why do I get the feeling they didn't mean it quite the same way I did?"

"Arvin and Emily came by later and cleaned up what they could before picking Sydney up from school.  Rosa went by later and took care of the rest."

"Jane must have had an interesting six months taking care of Sydney.  As I remember, she wasn't very fond of children."

"Sydney didn't stay with Jane. Rosa watched her for me until Jane could arrange a nanny."

"She hated me that much? Sydney is your child, too."

"You know how she was about children, Irina. You know, I really don't want to discuss the past right now.  Why don't we look for the missing diary instead?" 

Irina brushed her hair back from her face, tucking the tendrils behind her ears.  "I'll drop it for now. The book must be still in the den."

She grabbed his hand, carefully avoiding squeaky boards as she led him down the stairs.  "You really should have those fixed, sweetheart."

"And ruin a perfectly good intruder alert system?"

"Since you put it that way..."

"You take the couch, I'll check the recliner."

"It's not here, Jack."

"Not here, either. Maybe we should switch?"

"I don't think we are going to find the book here, sweetheart."

"Our room and here are the only two places…"  Jack stopped as he realized where the book had to be.  "Exactly how descriptive were you, Irina?"

"Very," she replied, her voice grim.

"Well," Jack quirked a brow at her.  "We _are_[/I] spies. It shouldn't be that difficult to retrieve it."

"But what if she's read it?"

"Then we'll hope she skipped all the good parts."

Irina shook her head and smiled at him. "Let's hope so.  I wouldn't want her to compare her boyfriends to her father. Otherwise, she may never marry."

Jack paled. "You were that descriptive? Perhaps we should burn the diaries?"

"We'll put them back in their hiding place.  I still want you to read them. You don't think she may have hidden it already?"

"The book will most likely be on the table next to her bed."

"I'll get it Jack.  You keep an eye on her."

Jack watched as Irina stealthily moved through the room to the table.  "It's not here, Jack. I don't see it…wait, it's on the bed. Her hand is covering it, but I should be able to slip it out."

"Mommy?" Sydney stirred in her sleep.

Irina froze.  "It's okay Irina, she's still asleep."

"Daddy? Don't leave me. Please."

"Shhh, sweetheart.  Daddy isn't going anywhere." Irina looked up at Jack.  "Tell her, Jack."

"I'm right here, honey. Go back to sleep. Daddy will always be here for you."

"Always?"

"Always! Now go to sleep, Buttercup." Sydney smiled and settled once more back into her covers.  

"Night, Daddy. Love you."

"I love you, too."

"I've got it, Jack.  Let's go."

Sydney peeked through her eyelashes, watching as her parents quietly closed the door behind them.  "Some spies they are." She laughed softly, then fell back to sleep.

Once back in their room, Irina looked at Jack and started to laugh.  "You don't think she was playing us, do you?"

"Yes, but we'll leave her the illusion that she fooled us, if you don't mind.  That way, no explanations are required."  Jack pulled her close, his hands going to the cloth belt holding the robe in place.  He started to untie it, but Irina placed a hand on his, stopping his progress.

"You kept this robe for twenty years.  Why?"

"I've never been much of a shopper."

"Jack, be serious."

"Why do you need to know?"

"A gift from the woman who betrayed you. Your co-workers used it to belittle you.  No one would blame you if you had a ceremony and burned it.  But you didn't. You not only kept it, but you still use it.  I can smell your scent on the cloth."

Jack pulled away from her and moved away from the bed, stripping out of the jeans and t-shirt he'd donned earlier.  "Do you remember when we bought the sewing machine?"

Irina nodded, allowing Jack to tell her in his own way.  "I wanted to make clothes for the baby. You thought I was crazy."

"You didn't know how to sew."

"No, I didn't. The Home Economics department gave me the most beautiful baby clothes at the shower. They were all handmade with such intricate details.  Heirloom quality.  You were away a lot and I was bored, so I took a class."

"I think Sydney was the best dressed girl in kindergarten." 

 "I was going to make her the Cinderella dress for her birthday.  I was so mad at you, not only for spoiling her so, but for ruining my plans for her birthday gift."

Jack tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You should have told me.  But I don't regret buying her the dress and I would do it again, given the same choice."

"Tell me about the robe, Jack." 

"With everything I went through that first year, a part of me wanted to believe that you loved me.  I hated you for what you had done, but I also hated myself for the illogic of still loving you despite what you had done. The robe was the only tangible proof I had that maybe it wasn't all one sided. When the investigators pulled the robe out of the box I knew you had made it for me.  You went to a lot of trouble for someone who was just an assignment."

"But when I came back, you were so angry."

"I was afraid.  With you safely dead, I could hang on to my illusions.  But you weren't dead and there was the matter of that video."

Irina slid across the bed, her hand caressing his ear and chin.  "I'm glad you kept it, but I think it's time I made you a new one."

"You can't.  I gave your sewing machine to Sydney."

"We'll buy a new one."

"Does that mean you plan on staying?"

"Was there ever any question?"

"You are on the USA's top ten most wanted list."

"I know you, Jack Bristow." Irina leaned in, her lips gently caressing his. "You have my pardon already arranged."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. You have to review it and sign off on it.  I had them send it to your attorney's office."

"We've come full circle, haven't we?"

"Mmmm."  Jack yawned.  "I think it's past my bedtime."

"You plan on sleeping?"

Jack tugged at the already loose belt holding the robe together.  "Eventually."  

~ * ~

Irina snuggled closer to her husband, comforted by the feel of his warm body next to hers.  "Jack?"

"He's asleep," Jack murmured into her ear, his hand tightening around her waist.  

She chuckled softly in response. "Talking in your sleep, my love? Should I prime you for secret information."

"I think you should just prime me, period."

"Is that one of your stipulations in the pardon agreement?" Irina traced a lazy finger along the sensitive area just under his jaw.  

"Page five, paragraph two, under marital relations."

Irina moved her hand down along his neck, slowly following a path down his chest, stopping when she touched the tip of his swollen head.  "I don't think you need any priming, sweetheart."

"Who knew pot roast could be such an aphrodisiac?"  Jack shivered as Irina's hand slid back and forth along his cock.  His own hand found it's way to the moist vortex between her legs; he slipped a finger in, teasing a sensitive spot.  He watched her eyes narrow with pleasure, before dipping his head to suckle her lips.  

"Jack, you have magic fingers, but I need you inside me.  I want you to come with me, to be joined as one."  She moved his hand away and guided him between her legs, sighing happily as he imbedded himself deep within.  

He held still for a moment, enjoying the feel of her muscles contracting around him, until Irina forcefully reminded him of her needs.  He moved slowly, increasing his tempo to meet his wife's demands. Irina's hands roved over his body, touching and tickling, delighting in each response.  Jack clasped his fingers around Irina's breasts, teasing the tips to total erection before moving his lips to their fullness.

The moved together, eyes sharing a silent message that held a promise for their future, one no longer separated by lies and deceit. In their joined culmination, each bestowed a wordless covenant uniting them with love.  

~*~

"So Dad has arranged for you to receive a full pardon, no strings attached?"  Sydney poured the freshly brewed coffee into two mugs, placing one before her mother.

"Of course there will be strings attached, sweetheart.  Nothing involving a government comes completely free.  But I'm willing to live with the strings.  I've been away from you both for far too long and I won't let any government interfere a second time."

"Is that coffee I smell?"  Jack walked into the breakfast nook, placing a soft kiss on Irina's neck before pulling out a chair.  He settled his large frame easily against the wooden back, enjoying the sight of his wife and daughter together once more in his home.  

The doorbell rang as Sydney placed another mug in front of her father.  "I'll get it.  You two enjoy your coffee."

Jack reached across the table, taking Irina's hand in his.  "I have something for you."  Using his free hand, he pulled a set of rings from his pocket, placing them on Irina's left ring finger.  "I found your rings after I came home."

"You kept them." Irina stared at her hand in wonder.

"Yes."

"I had to leave them behind.  If I didn't, the KGB would have confiscated them."

"For many years I wondered why you didn't take them with you.  They would have been worth some money on the black market."

Irina looked aghast.  "Sell them? If I thought for a minute that I would be able to keep them, they would never have left my finger!"

"I assumed you didn't want to have any reminders of us and our life together, since you didn't seem to want them for their financial value."  

"They were too precious to me to allow anyone else to have them. I knew that one day I would come back and retrieve them, so I hid them where I thought no one would ever find them."

"The FBI and the CIA were pretty thorough in their search, but they didn't know the house.  I looked in the places they would have overlooked."

"What about your ring, Jack?"

Silently, he reached into the pocket again and pulled out a matching band and placed it in her hand.  She clasped it tight, before kissing it. Picking up his hand, she slipped the ring on his finger, whispering an "I love you" as the golden circle slip into place.  

Sydney walked back in the room, just as her mother pulled her father's hand into a kiss.  She cleared her throat.  "Warning. Daughter in the house." 

Jack looked up, the tips of his ears glowing a gentle hue of pink.  "Sydney.  We were just.."

His daughter gasped, interrupting his need for explanation.  "You are wearing your wedding rings.  That's so sweet."

Jack cleared his throat.  "Sweet?"

"Are those your father's suits, Sydney?"  Irina pointed at the items Sydney had folded over her arm.  "They will get wrinkled if you carry them that way."

"Well, I had to, Mom.  Otherwise they would drag on the floor and I'm sure Daddy would not appreciate that."  

Irina took the load from her daughter.  "Let me put these away before you inflict any more damage."  

"Oh, I almost forgot.  They found something in one of the pockets.  A note or something."  Sydney handed the envelope to her father as Irina made her way up the stairs with Jack's dry cleaning.  "It must be from Mom."

Jack took the envelope from his daughter and silently read the inscription on the front of the cream colored paper.  "ARILY". Quickly he opened the flap and read the note inside.

"She must have left this in one of my suits from Panama."

"What does it say?"

Jack cleared his throat.  "I think this is one of those 'need to know' things.  I'm pretty sure you don't need to know."

Irina returned, taking in her husbands embarrassed expression and Sydney's sly smile.  "Did I miss anything?"

"Dad just got your note from Panama."

Irina looked at Jack and smiled.  

Sydney watched her parents and realized that for the first time in twenty-two years, her family was at peace.

"Hey Mom and Dad.  Do you want to watch some home movies? I've got 'Sydney, age 4" loaded in the player."

"I think it's time we quite replaying the past and start making new movies, sweetheart."  Jack looked at the two most important people in his life and pulled them into the circle of his arms.  "This time, we'll do it right."

Fin


End file.
